Harry Potter and the Immortals' return
by ThE UnKnOwN gOd
Summary: Merlin and Morgana have long awaited to be freed. Having founded Wizardly Society, they now await the goddess' pleasure. Their chance might yet come when eleven year old Harry enters his first year at Hogwarts. Will he be the answer they so desesperetely seek? Canon Pairings. With the Exception of Merlin/Morgana. Slytherin!Merlin. Gryff!Morgana. New Chapter!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer:

I own nothing. Ain't it sad..

Everything Belongs to J,K Rowling & BBC Entertainment.

All Harry Potter Characters, Places, Items and main ideas are of belonging to J.K Rowling,

Merlin and all its components its owned by BBC.

I claim no ownership whatsoever.

 _ **BOOK 1: Harry Potter & The Philosopher's Stone,**_

 _ **Prologue.**_

Destiny.

Fate, such a funny little thing. If you believed in it, of course.

Merlin, like just a handful of people, like precious few; did. He had gone through so much hardships and following, so many different goals that it was kind of hard for himself not to trust in it.

You see, it began the day his world ended, when he had tried to protect his friends. And when he had failed, due to her. When he had come back and seen her standing there, he was furious, more than that, he was absolutely livid. Morgana had been a stain of darkness to the world for too long, and she was still alive, why? Why did the Old Religion allow it?

The real question was not why though, but 'how?'

She had to be dead. She had to be…

Arthur's sword, Excalibvr, was forged on dragon's breath. She was supposed to be dead. Merlin remembered Morgana had always been so stubborn, unwilling to be controlled. Going against authority in every turn...

But refusing to die? That was a new low.

She would not be allowed to hurt anyone, ever again. He would see to that… "Merlin?" The woman gasped for air… "Merlin."

"Morgana."

Merlin had raised Excalibur again, twice. But he could not do it; he wanted to kick himself hard. He ran to the edge and threw the sword over to the lake… And that made him want to kick himself as well.

He had always felt doubt when it came to Arthur's half-sister. He never had the capacity to come to a decision about her.

During those first eighty years or so he found himself near drowning on emotions. He felt rage on the world, on Morgana; he felt pain on Arthur's death, guilt, sadness.

And then he felt he had no choice, he hated The Old Religion for compelling him to get along with the Murderess. And so did her… They both lacked the choice to part; even if they separated they kept finding each other. They always ended up one in front of the other, it was like a silent tune, and their magic kept calling the other.

The violence between them both did not originally, leave; they fought and insulted each other.

But eventually, they opened to each other... He did not expect it, to find the lady, Morgana used to be inside of her. And a relationship was formed; it was not a loving or friendly relationship then, but a non-aggression resolution of the sort.

They had argued and fought all the time, but she refused to leave, again. She was stubborn, like always. And then years had passed. Slowly, their relationship became friendlier. He trusted her. But he was having a hard time forgiving. And he did try…

When Camelot had fallen, it had been most trialing for them both, even if she denied it.

Merlin had expected the great city to last for many decades, he was even hopeful it would survive a century, or two.

So when Civil War erupted between Arthur's twin sons, barely eighteen years later after his death. He had been dismayed. When the youngest died in the fighting, he had been grieved. Worse because it was he who took a fatherly role with them both, he who raised them.

When at the end Lot tried to control the weak territory and take Camelot to his own and Merlin was forced to fight alongside his Nemesis to protect the remaining prince, Guinevere and all survivors. He never again felt as bad.

Lot died, and both kingdoms were lost to time, Kings rose and fell as the rain above him. And every kingdom became a taunting presence in the earth. Gaius had died shortly after leaving Camelot, and was it then that Merlin had fallen into a great depression himself.

Llacheou and Gwen took control of a small manor on Ireland, and they lived well, and so did their descendants. But hardly as kings and queens that should have they been. He would later on keep a track on their descendants. He amused himself doing so.

Eventually some did become rulers; maybe it was on their blood.

But Morgana and he stayed in the crystal cave at first, living in there, taking their time. Bidding it, waiting the moment to come back. Though, they stayed the same. The world would not suffer the same fate; soon his own branch of magic was gone, leaving him and the high priestess as the last users.

They did leave sometimes, and then it was when they found out.

The Old Religion had given birth to a new magic, attempting to recreate the balance perhaps. For the balance of life and death had been lost, the true magic had declined turning into nothing, disappearing from the face of the Earth, slowly, until half a century later it was gone… Not all of it though, he and Morgana the last true magic users.

The magic that came was much weaker and depended on little sticks, 'wands'. He hated it at first, it was a constant reminder that he had failed. Morgana mocked it and joked about it, but she too held little love it. But he, he just abhorred it. Every time he met a wand-wielder, he was scornful, annoyed at their antics and arrogance.

Some wand-wielders were scornful at the world of the so called Muggles. They had forgotten where they came from, and now they hated that, that was different. They posed a threat to Non-Magical people, and Merlin was not embarrassed to say he fought, and sometimes even killed, Wizards who went as far as try to murder and torture.

Dark Magic seemed not to have fallen as much as good was… Somehow, it might have been the darkness of Uther's and Morgana's making.

So eventually they left the cave, well HE left, and she followed. He became a physician on a small town, even if he could not join the world like himself, he would be a part of it. He wanted to work for that. Morgana became his assistant, and that lasted barely a few years. They eventually faked their deaths, and left.

They did this several times in different ways, on the 630's he became a farmer, 680's he was a philosopher, on the 740's a librarian and then he became a physician again on the 830's and 920's. It just struck home, and he felt pain because of it, but he felt closer to Gaius that way.

On 970's he became an inn keeper.

He tried to stay low. It often worked. But sometimes he would walk forward, guiding the Wizardly world as best he could.

Joining it at once when it formed, a weak and slightly ineffective government, he helped as much as he could. Using the money he earned in anonymous donations. He did create the Order of Merlin, in the sorcerer's honor, using another name. He designed laws and all. The prizes and all were his ideas.

But History started to get distorted; they thought Merlin himself was the founder… And though he did not like it, he distorted history; it was extremely frustrating at first, to see the 'true' magic leaving the world. They were the only place where it still stood. He felt the Old religion still around him. It was not fully gone, but it would never become what it used to be... It was not meant to return, to be used, it was meant to be untouchable. So he erased it from records, and he changed them so to make his life easier.

And wherever he went Morgana would follow him. Always his helper... And then out of sudden he felt it, he forgave her.

They would still fight all the time though. And screamed and insulted each other. And set things on fire... But she would never go. And he would not complain. He was ready to go back, to face the world. But she was not; the world had never been nice to her...

She had blamed it on his hero complex. She did not want to interfere, and neither did he... He was not going to intervene; it was not their place to do so... He did not want to, he just wanted to go and live...

He remembered the first fight they had, she had said things. Things that she had said before... He had called him a traitor, a coward and a fool.

He missed Camelot; he missed Arthur, Gwen and Gaius. He did not belong anymore. They did not; Merlin and Morgana were relics of that that had passed.

It was very stressing for them both, every single things getting in each other's nerves. Until one year a woman had appeared, wishing to stay in the inn... A witch, she used a wand, but Helga Hufflepuff's magic was different. Closer to their own. Something that he had never seen, the mystique of the Old Religion and the 'oddity' of Modern Magic.

So they followed her... They followed the cart, and got to a castle or a castle in building at least. It was beautiful, unique and odd. He realized there was not only one especial witch, but there were three young users of magic... And when they both saw this, they knew... They could intervene in this, they had to.

He got close to the people in charge, he wanted to intervene as soon as possible, but when they told him the plans, the idea of a magic school.

He was wrathful, a few centuries ago he would have full of joy. But building such a place would destroy the mystique and beauty of magic. Any could learn it, and that made it a right, when magic was a gift, something to be honed and studied. He remembered the first time he used a spell, the feeling of success.

Morgana however was fulled of joy by this idea; she learned the new magic from the founders and taught them the Old, for they were blessed by the old Religion. Using the name she had in the time she became the fourth founder, Rowena Ravenclaw, and brought to the castle an adopted daughter, whom she had found and named, Helena.

Merlin watched from the crystal cave. He had no intentions of joining the world now, not without the High Priestess. He saw Helena grow and with her, the school. When the first year came, he came around; this was what the Old Ways wanted... Befriended the rest of the founders, keeping his identity hidden even from the woman that knew him best.

The school began falling apart, Salazar Slytherin, one of the founders had built a chamber, a secret one. To hide a monster of the Old Ways, a basilisk. Morgana had been horrorified, not even she would trifle with such monstrosity. Though the man said it to be for a just purpose, the school closed.

Morgana was furious; the rest of the founders, Godric and Helga; more so.

There was a fight, and the castle was left to rot. He cleaned up the mess.

Brought them all together again. He revealed himself; he went as an old man. 'Dragoon The Great.' as Arthur would say. Salazar claimed the creature destroyed.

And Morgana believed him. Peace came back.

And the school began working again, he spent quite a long time there. He understood now, what the school was to become. Salazar helped him began studying Parsel, a development from the Dragonlord trait inside himself. It would certainly be useful.

It was this time that he created the Order. People began to believe he had studied at the school. That Merlin had been born now. He did nothing to subdue such beliefs.

He had found a place. But deep inside him, his heart knew... It could not last.

And he was right.

Then disaster stroke. Merlin found Morgana was nowhere around, and a few weeks later found her crying in the library. She had been there the entire time; being immortal she did not tire or required neither food nor rest. That is when he learned Helena had died.

Being Immortal was harsh, Morgana and he, they were sustained by the Earth, should they not eat they would survive so only just. She had been broken when he found her, weak.

And when she had been healed, had been devastated; she could not stand the castle anymore. So she left, and THIS time, Merlin was the one who followed.

They went back to before, back to Ealdor, now known as Glen. The year was 1023. Five years later Helga died, she had known they were alive. Apparently, Rowena was regarded to have died. Merlin had been forgotten mostly, and the school had kept on working. He had done it.

On 1030 they received a letter from Salazar. They went to his place and stayed there, until 1034 when witch burnings started on the area and the house was destroyed.

In the 1600's when the International Statute was signed, he influenced some minds to make it happen. It was what the old religion wished from him. He heard it still, all these centuries but still.

And once again they waited, but this time, they did on the crystal cave. Until 1645, when they went back to the world, and from them on. Life became a game, both of them, they lived as they wanted.

Hogwarts, too. They would go there in disguise. Merlin as a teacher, and Morgana as a student. And then Morgana as the teacher and Merlin as the student. And so on, so on. Every 50 years they returned, living as muggles once or twice, variating name, appearance and behavior.

Things changed on 1899, when he met Albus Dumbledore. Future headmaster. And it was on 1945 during the great wars on both Muggle and Wizarding world, that he rose to prominence. And Merlin realised he was the future.

He mantained close, as Dumbledore's very own DA teacher, he protected the young student; knowing what he would be.

And he was right. In 1945, Dumbledore defeated Gellert Grindelwald, took the stick the dark wizard used; a wand he, Merlin himself, had given to a man who helped him cross a swamp. And became Hogwarts' headmaster and chief of Wizengamot, an organization in charge of protecting the interests of Wizard community; a birth of his own Order…

Though, with similar goals he never got along with them, some were serious blood purity maniacs.

Merlin never understood the idea of blood, one either had magic or just did not, wizards or Muggles were still human beings. With emotions, ideas and potential for good.

But that never stopped them from fighting against each other. Even Gwen, after Arthur's death was unable to fully stop it. That is what caused the decline of magic in the first place.

All the pain, all those deaths. And no life. No balance, no peace. Too much hatred...

But it was not Dumbledore who he had to look for, and once again, his effort s were in vain. He had been to rush to see his true purpose, him and her both. It was 1975 when they noticed Lily Evans and James Potter. And both Morgana and he agreed that there was something unique in them.

Morgana was their teacher, and Merlin befriended them, in escence again he was a fifth of a group, and the Marauders never knew. They had not known who they made Homework with.

So the Warlock, and the Priestess kept an eye on them. But they did not foresee the betrayal of Pettigrew. They did not expect it, and so both of them died. And Merlin blamed himself; it was Voldemort, Tom Riddle again.

He did not thought him particularly powerful, just destructive, even Morgana saw in him a monster, Salazar would have been horrified. The boy had been all the shrewdness of Slytherin, but no will for good.

Voldemort however discovered Horcruxes, a spell cast of the old religion. It was originally good magic, to attach the soul using the mirroring of life and death, used to protect the high priests from death. Once they could be made with no killing, but on their decline such power was lost, the soul could not be duplicated anymore just shattered.

Now, Voldemort and other 'wand-wielders' had the need to fragment the soul and divide it. And that was a crime. Merlin hated what they did to the world. It made them more powerful alright, but it gave them in the end, pain and suffering. The creation of such objects brought an enormous loss of Balance.

With those objects, he saw only darkness. He found and destroyed those he could, all over the world; Greece, Rome, England, The United States, Egypt. Everywhere. But Voldemort he did not attack or faced in anyway.

He aided the Ministry and the Order of The Phoenix. But from the sidelines, only.

Every death augmented the imbalance, the wand wielders knew not, and Morgana doubted, but HE was sure; if the destruction remained the magic of wands will dissipate as well. Voldemort's life was an abomination.

He had to die. And Harry Potter, James and Lily's son, was the one to do it. His mother had died to protect him, he was everything Tom was not; loved, cared for, pure. Everything Merlin and Morgana were not.

If they were to kill him, Voldemort, and though they could, Horocruxes, even seven were no match for him or her, he could sense them were they close, he could destroy them with little effort; But should he try the balance may never be restored, and magic will decline even more. His hands were tied.

Harry was the answer. Only he could defeat the so called 'Dark Lord'...

They began the preparations, forgery of documents and stuff; they had done it before several times, but with extra time. And there was no time to loose.

One could say a year was too long, but for two who had live 1500 of those. So they were ready, they could now intervene. They had been waiting for a millennia and a half.

But how? In all these years of waiting, planning, they did not think of how. Morgana wanted to reveal themselves, but Merlin doubted that would do good, his name was now the greatest in Wizard history.

He would be deified! Treated as a god. And Morgana would be hated; so after many fights they decided against it. It left too much strings untouched.

It was Morgana's idea, go as a two students instead of teacher. Keep close to Harry, protect him. Merlin agreed wholeheartedly.

And so they began. They had done this a hundred of times before, but not with a purpose...

Just as means to pass time… Hogwarts was a home for them both, a constant in their lives. When they first went there around 1646, when he saw Helena, when she saw her daughter. Now a Ghost, Morgana had had a breakdown on the feast. He had stood up, grabbed his friend took her to his assigned Office.

All that had finally a meaning.

Finally having a destined path filled Merlin's heart with expectation...

"Merlin!" Morgana screamed. "Diagon Alley awaits!" She walked into the room and giggled. "Want some help with that?" Her hair was pulled back, tight in a bun. And Merlin noticed it was brown, and that she looked eleven again... But in her defense she made a pretty eleven year old, no matter the hair.

Her eyes were the same. Both his and hers, a deal they had made, always to keep the same eyes… Another constant thing, as an immortal constancies became necessary. If he did not have Morgana to begin with, he would have likely lost himself long ago.

He pouted, blushing. "Hey, I have not used one of this in five decades." He gestured down to the robe. And the clumsily made knot, which he struggled to undo. She chuckled softly. He looked eleven too.

It was true though, he had been a muggle his last time, to add a little variety. Constancy and Variety; that was how they lived.

"Allow me." She grabbed his robe and undid the knot quickly. He looked at her face, stunned and embarrased, she smiled. "I was a lady, once. Practice makes perfect." She purred. And then looked at his head. "You sure you want to go as a blond? You look like HIM."

"Arthur?" He asked sourly, she did not answer. Instead she focused on the brown ribbon on his cloak. Merlin felt a spasm of guilt and grief from her before she pushed it back.

All this time, and it was his first as a blond. He really avoided it, so looking into a mirror was not that… painful. Merlin after all had Arthur's eye color and a similar shape.

"You know 'Gana? You look better with black hair." She smiled with a small blush. Merlin did not need his powers to know that her grin was not real. His statement was though.

"I'll keep that in mind." She whispered. He chuckled, and she hugged him. He hugged her back. Slightly awkwardly, he and she were still a complicated old story. A really old, really complicated story.

"Alright, let us go." Morgana said, pulling back... She pass her hand through the robe. "I want to go through Knockturn Alley... Ol' Margo had new shipment today."

"Oh, good..." He said sarcastically. "Then we can buy you a black silk dress and tore it up a bit." Her eyebrows drifted north... Before a mischievous look appeared on her eyes. The Pendragon mischief. Arthur had it, She had it, Arthur's sons had it.

"And I can age you up... Huh?" She said. "Emrys?" He wondered if Uther had it, once. Before he turned a psychotic murderer.

"And I will use a Tornado on you. Again." He snorted, she grimaced and glared... He chuckled. Their lives had turned into banther, he did with her what he had done with Arthur.

She slapped the back of his head, rather hard. "That is not funny, Merlin. It really hurt."

He rubbed his head. "Huh, sorry. The Fomorroh hurt too, you know." He said it jokingly, but he obviously did not feel like that. She nodded with soft eyes. Merlin felt through his powers the grief, and self-hate she often had for herself.

"I know. Sorry for that." She sat down in the couch nearby looking at the windows. "And for the Serkets, and for Gwen and for Arthur." She swallowed.

" 'Gana..."

"How can I go back, Merlin?" She said, looking at him with a guilty and pained face. "I have only the capacity to hurt." A tear slid off her face, she cleaned it with the back of her hand. She hated looking weak and fragile; Uther had always said those were characteristics of a true noble lady, but she wanted nothing to oblige the tyrant. Not even in death.

"You know that is not true..." He kneeled and held her hand. "Morgana you made a horrible mistake, but for the right reason." At the very beginning the priestess held her views and actions harshly, naming them ' _Necessary evil_ '.

"I did not. It was not a mistake..." She sobbed, but her eyes were narrowed in anger. He felt rage as she said it... Not a mistake? "There were thousands of them." However, lately she condemmned herself more than he ever did. Their roles had funnily been reversed.

And he did not precisely like it.

"Morgana, you have the chance to make things right, now." She took out a pocket neckerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "Take it." She nodded. And looked at his eyes.

"Merlin...?" She mumbled gently. Unable to pull back of his hug.

"Mmmmh?" He responded thumbing his fingers in her shoulder.

She cleared her throat. "Margo is waiting..."

Merlin nodded. Pulling off, ears a reddish pink. He opened the door to her, and walked beside her as they raced down the stairs of the mansion they now had. One thought on his head…

 ** _Diagon Alley here we go._**


	2. Camelot falls - 667

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.**

 **Thank you all for the reviews! I will try to keep the chapters coming!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1:**

 **Camelot Falls.**

* * *

 **Year 667**

Merlin and Morgana walked out of the huge forest that lay near the Crystal Cave, their home for the last 18 years. Just in words for him though. He now often stayed in Camelot, not recently though, just at the very beginning; leaving her unbound in the hole in the ground.

Morgana had made a fancy home, in there with her powers. She had created creeping grass, a steady light and a not so small cabin. All full with her touch, she was a noble after all she deserved more than just bedding on harsh rock. It was her right.

So their home seemed more like a manor now than a modest house, and everything grew in the cave now and then, a small forest with a small quantities of animals. Rats, Bunnies, even a couple of caribous grazed there.

So when the sounds of battle had been heard, Merlin knew the unthinkable had happened. Morgana had been half amused, to his enormous distaste.

She knew that Arthur's sons had engaged in self-destructive behaviors. Like father, like sons. A chip of the royal-pain-of-an-old-block. So when the old man saw the damage on the enormous plains nearby their homes, he had felt the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"By the goddess..." The man had whispered. Awe and pain edged in his face. "Llacheou, Loholt... What have you done?!" He said, his voice turned at the end becoming a harsh yell.

He expected a sound, anything, but the battlefield was silent. He begged the goddess for a scream, a yell, a grunt. Morgana poked him, she looked around stoically... "Merlin, let us go by separate. We cover more ground..."

He glared at her, angered for her lack of response, he felt her emotions calm, collected; detached. Merlin pushed her away. Not ignoring the wisdom of her words.

Morgana's apathy infuriated him, he knew that she was able to feel emotions, and the fact that she refused to do it for all these people granted her his hatred.

He snorted. "We will do as you say." He turned around and rushed away, not even glancing back at her... Morgana watched him go.

Quite fast... For his age.

The high priestess knew the smell of death. She was used to it.

She avoided most of the corpses as she moved. Or moved them out of the way, her eyes registered no one alive and she felt no emotion except her own, she tried to send her mind's eye as far as she could.

She actually expected to find near-nothing.

Her eyes registered the colors of the flags, a red-and-gold, and a gold-and-red, two different symbols for Camelot and a last flag lay beneath her feet; colored a dull dark gray.

Cedred.

Or rather Lot.

 _So, Lot had invaded the battlefield and killed all the fighters._ A good strategy, as far as she was concerned. Minimize losses by having others do the heavy lifting. She broke through the remains of a catapult. Why bring a Catapult to a battlefield was beyond her; perhaps one of the Pendragon whelps had done it, their lack of experience was laughable.

The sounds nearby, had her on edge. So she did a logical thing; she called a sword to her hand, if anyone decided to try and take her out they had another thing coming. Not that she needed the piece of metal, her magic would do. But it was good to be prepared.

Every sound had her flinching, until there was one that was worse than those before.

There was a caw.

She turned around, violently; a crook was eating a corpse nearby. Disgust and Anger filled her. "No!"

She raised her hand, eyes flashing gold and the raven fell to the floor. Burned… She hissed at herself for the abrupt behavior, the body was dead. A corpse. After this catastrophe none of them would be left around; they would decay.

 _Look for living ones, Morgana, survivors._ She focused her mind's eye once more. Trying once more to feel even a hint of thought or emotions.

And she felt a bout of pain, one that was not hers. _Physical pain_. She raised her eyes and scanned the area, finally flashing, to a man in the ground, her mouth fell wide. "Leon."

She buckled and crawled to him, strange emotions she had not felt in years hitting her...

* * *

Merlin's hand gripped the staff, his knuckles turning white. His voice fell crooked. "Arthur." He whispered. "Your legacy... I am sorry. I failed you." He saw a man with gray garments look warily at him, he had just pulled his sword out of a poor youth, barely knight material.

 _Lot! How dare he break the laws of war?_ Merlin raised his staff and sent the man flying against a tree. His anger getting the worse of him. He followed the man's trajectory and when he realized he had survived he turned back and kept walking, rage and pain tightened across his heart, making him feel an icy fury.

Had he had a chance, no soldier from Essetir would be alive now.

And then he felt a small wave of amusement. HE was from Essetir as well.

But he recognized no warrior or Knight, from any side of the war. Not that it did any good in extricating him of his pain. Sometimes he would see one who looked almost familiar, and his old heart would quench on unspeakable emotional pain.

What he did recognize was the signs of magic, relatively new spells had been cast nearby, not very strong in comparison to Morgana's or his... But not that weak, either.

Loholt, of course. Llacheou was too afraid of magic. And Lot did not trust it, no wonder he did not, looking how his predecessor ended up.

He saw a tree, half-burned in the middle of a number of bodies and recognized Lot's surviving knight in it, the one man he had incapacitated himself. He was going on and on in circles, he was wasting time.

Merlin raised his head and screamed in impotence, falling to his knees. Guilt hit him in waves, he wished he could be a little more like Morgana, a little cold. His emotions were clouding his senses, magical or otherwise.

Perhaps he had passed near a survivor, but his pain had not allowed him to see him or feel him.

"Merlin?" A muffled voice muttered. "Is that you?" He looked at a sea of corpses, realizing there were three in a pile, one hand was moving towards him. Distraught, he raised his hand and blasted two of them away. He pulled one out…

"Llacheou!" Merlin grabbed the prince, pulling the youth's body to his arms. "What have you done...? Where is Loholt?" Merlin whispered. The prince was hardly injured, he had a few cuts on his chest and a big laceration in his face, there was an arrow edged in his lower thigh.

"I do not know." Llacheu shook his head. "He did this. He did this." He justified, repeating in a matter that reminded the warlock of Morgana's. "He is to blam-" The warlock still began mending the prince's chest wounds. Thanking the goddess they did not surpass a moderate quality. Healing with magic was not his forte.

Llacheou sobbed, emotional and physical pain fighting for control. "I am so sorry. I should have yielded the throne." His eyes were fresh with tears. Merlin furiously lifted the prince's head, angry at the immaturity.

"Do not cry." He ordered. The seventeen year old glared at him. "I told you. I tried to teach your brother and you." Merlin continued, both fury and terrible sadness laced on his voice. "This is your father's legacy. Your mother's" His voice became laced deep with sarcasm. "Arthur would be proud."

"Do not lecture me, Merlin." Llacheou screamed, sorely. His anger wracking his body."With all your powers and gifts. You could have stopped this. YOU!" The Warlock hit the ground with the staff.

"Do not make me the focus of your faults." Merlin remarked. Healing the big cut on the boy's face. "No Llacheou. You have destroyed everything."

* * *

"Leon." She whispered at the knight, hitting him in the cheek.

"Morgan-a?!" The knight gasped, he yearned for his sword, but his arm was broken. She kneeled at him. "Are you here to taunt me, witch?" The accusation made her feel a relatively new kind of self-hate.

But there was no hate in HIM as far as she could sense, just cold resignation. "No, do not move." She said, caressing his face, age had claimed him..."I can heal you."

His hair was white, his body, wrinkled. His beard was long. "No, my lady. My body is broken..." He seemed to understand her redemption, somehow. "You have not aged a day."

The statement was more like a thought slipped from his lip. "How did this happen? Why did we allow them to do this?" She said, pulling him to the withered tree behind them. She lit off the fires that covered it, her hair waving with the winds she summoned. Laying the knight there, as softly and sweetly as she could.

"Prince Llacheou was the heir. Loholt's best claim is mut." Leon said softly, coughing at the end. Morgana felt disagreement in her heart.

"They are BROTHERS, Leon!" She exclaimed, with rageful features. Her hand pulling at her hair, pulling hard, feeling the pain in her calve. And the deeper feeling, that she deserved that pain. Merlin was always the protector, she should have been there too.

How much lives, magical or otherwise, were lost by her inaction?

Leon coughed. "So were Arthur and Morgana." The knight answered, his voice hoarse. "History repeats itself." Morgana's eyes narrowed. Arthur was a coward, he was Uther's pawn, and she was not his sister. Morgause was her sister, she had fought for rightness.

"I did it for a just purpose…" She answered almost automatically. "A just one."

"And the methods?" He asked, knowing he had hit a nerve. She seemed to pale before becoming red, anger or otherwise he did not know. She growled as she had once as the dethroner; Morgana Le Fay.

"Do not matter."

"Are you sure it is me you try to convince?" Leon responded. She turned to him, and fell his pain, both emotional and physical. Morgana grimaced.

She bit her upper lip, "My people deserved their freedom…" The defense often worked on herself, as she whispered to be able to sleep, but it seemed not to affect him. He was adamant there was a better way, if only Morgana could have seen it.

Now or Then, she saw no better path than that one she had taken.

Leon nodded slowly, "And now my lady? They are free." A strong wind blew her raven hair, making she look as a ghost in the wind. And Leon doubted if this was actually happening.

 _Perhaps a delusion of a dying man? Was she really there? Or was she speaking to a ghost?_

"The methods did not matter, Leon."

Leon looked at the battlefield with surmised grief. "All those deaths you caused. Did you feel nothing?" She went quiet. And only answered when he repeated his question a third time.

"It was what was just." She defended herself looking down at the blood-stained dry grass. The silence that followed told Leon he was breaking into her.

He knew she thought she was doing what was right. And so she did. She believed she was working for a good motive, before she started messing with the darkness. And it changed her plans upside down.

Leon shook his head, coughing and grunting, blood on his lips. "That… is not the question… I asked." He stated.

"I had to do it." Her answer was of one second after, automatically, pre-prepared. And he knew it.

That is how Morgana worked, she was manipulative. She had always gotten her way, and she did whatever to make sure that happened…

No one in Camelot had suspected her change, from the overall good woman and to whatever she turned out to be. Leon remembered a caring woman, alas, with a slight darkness on her otherwise clean soul.

The knight grunted in pain. Looking unbelieving, he looked at her face, as she stared up and back at his. "Do you feel anything, now?" He whispered to her, she blinked. _When she was just a lady had their relationship been more than friendly?_

"My feelings were and are irrelevant. I had a duty." She answered.

He stared as if he was boring into her soul. "So all you did? Was there no better path?" The knight questioned.

" **NO**." She answered, almost shouting it up; standing up, looking away from him. The questions he was asking were opening old wounds, wounds that she had thought were already closed...

"Morgana." Leon yelped. "I knew you once, my lady." His head cocked to her. "You do lie, quite a lot. But you don't believe those lies you tell." She wanted to scream at him, _how dare he call her a liar?_

"Uther was a murderer and a coward! That is no lie Leon!"

"Many say the same about you." He answered, voice hollow. He had little more time.

She looked at the hills, filled with fires, pikes and the warm bodies of the recently deceased. It was then that the age and guilt caught up with her. She lay next to Leon, and lay quiet at the end of everything they knew, Camelot would fall, if it had not already. Lot was not going to wait, he now had the advantage.

"Let me ease your passing, Sir Leon." She offered, turning to look at him.

His mouth closed shut. She raised her hand and prepared a circle of fire around them both, ready to use a powerful numbing spell. "Are you going to kill me?" He asked. He looked wary, of her, or her powers she did not know.

His eyes widened at the fire, and he tried to stand. Roaring in pain as he could not. His body was indeed broken. She grabbed his hand and put it to her cheek. Touching his chest. "No, Brave Knight." She said as she sobbed. Tears slowly falling. "I will take the pain away."

A wave of agreement, thankfulness and relief filled her mind's eye. She knew Leon would not last long, his time was ending. "Rest now, Leon." She kissed his forehead, feeling strangely sad, _why would she give such honor to this knight?_ He was her enemy.

But as she looked at him, he saw no enemy.

She muttered a spell, his eyes closed peacefully and she kept her head close to his own head as she softly cried. "My Lady Morgana. Thank you."

And his eyes stared to the sky, even though the smokes of war covered it all, the knight could see the stars.

* * *

Queen Guinevere, slid into a chair and she looked out the window. The monarch looked at the portrait of her love, Arthur smiled back with a pompous but caring impression. _Where had she failed. What have I done wrong?_ She looked at the courtyard that now stood half-empty, Arthur? _Where did I fail?_ She thought.

The door cried open.

The Mother Queen turned from her chair and found a servant. Her hair was raven and she was looking down. Guinevere tried to remember someone who fitted those descriptions. She knew all servants, of course, having had been one herself.

She saw tireness in the woman, not a drowsy exhaustion. But more of an emotional one, one only dreamless sleep healed.

Guinevere took special care to know every single one of the help, as personally as possible. She attended weddings, spoke with them in the kitchen, she honored her people as best as she could.

"Yes?" Gwen asked. "What news of the field?" But this girl did not bring any recognition, not at all. That made no sense as far as the monarch was concerned; she was involved in hiring them all. Perhaps she only dressed similarly, a civilian sent to the Queen, or better yet, she was one of her agents disguised.

Perhaps she brought news of the field.

Her hand cleaned her face. The servant swallowed hard, and Gwen found that gesture awfully familiar. Who is this? She thought. It was as if she had known the figure in front of her very well.

"The armies are gone." The servant said with a soft, clear voice. A smoothened voice, whoever it was she was a mistress of disguise.

Gwen paused, her face turned grey. "Lot's soldiers, they intervened, took control of the battle field... Leon. He is gone..." Guinevere stood up in a gasp. Pain for Leon subsided when she thought of her boys.

She released a sob. "No!" She screamed, tears falling out of her eyes.

"What of Llacheou? And Loholt? What of my sons?!" Her hand covered her mouth, she slipped into the bed. The maidservant walked at her and hugged her, Gwen's grief was too strong for her to realize.

Gwen hugged back, she made herself seem strong in front of the masses, but it was not the first time she had cried in front of them. On Arthur's funeral after the hanging of Eira, she had fallen down and crawled inside by the helpings of Leon. Her hormones at the time had not helped her.

Had not it been by Merlin, the only fatherly example to her children she would have been a terrible mother.

"I am sorry Gwen. Llacheou survived, we know nothing of Loholt." The female voice was raspy, her hands balled into fists. Not out of rage, but to prevent crying.

They cried together… Deep inside she knew the servant was not crying because of her sons. But she could not bring herself to care; perhaps she had lost someone else on the brothers quarrel.

"Gwen..." The Queen repeated, noticing suddenly the nickname from the newcomer's lips. "Who are you?" She inquired, raising her voice. The woman gasped, slipping back in the bed, and then lifted her face, for the queen to see; slowly. Very slowly, as in fear of the Queen's reaction, deep inside, Guinevere was saddened further because of it; she had strived to be a just and fair ruler.

Her people should not fear the monarch.

Gwen covered her mouth. As a shocked gasp left it. "You." She croaked. A thousand feelings hit her at once, battering her even more.

Llacheou and Merlin had just found the surviving Knights and soldiers from both sides of the war. And they were terribly few, a small legion of soldiers with different degree of training. _Could Camelot be defended just among them?_ He doubted it.

Camelot would fall without her defenders. He supposed someone else remained back at the city, but they were too few.

Merlin knew neither of them, and all the mixed raging emotions were taking their toll on his powers, which he struggled to keep back.

The young prince walked forward. "Merlin? What is it to become of me, of us?" Merlin looked at the ground; every second that passed his heart seemed to break a little more. The fact that Camelot would be gone, that his home was soon to be gone.

Gaius still survived. And Camelot was still home, he often went there yet, disguised... But in four years not once had he visited the halls.

With Arthur's death, Merlin the Manservant had followed him to the grave. And he was ignored, mostly; there were still some that remembered him as the loyal friend of the King. And they did so fondly. They thought of him as a hero, as he had personally engaged Morgana to defend his ruler… Children now learned of him, as the epitome of Loyalty, even knights were showed to strive to be as he; and it touched his heart.

Merlin did not. But Dragoon still came to the citadel.

Llacheou and Loholt did not need his teachings anymore, or perhaps they did. If he had been there, preventing the teenagers from drifting so apart. _Could he have prevented this war?_ He would not go as far as blaming himself for all of it, but he had not so small of a share in it.

Leon and Loholt dead, he couldn't help the pain that his voice gave, making him truly feel as if he was the age he pretended. He was Dragoon, just now, old and filled with madness, suffering and in pain. He was alone, the last of the warriors of the past.

"You shall go to Camelot, take your people and leave through the tunnels... Some gold if it spared, you can take as well... Morgana and I will distract Lot. And rejoin you, so you can cross to..." His voice whispered. "Louernia." (1) The last knowledge was for the prince, and he alone. He did not trust the knights completely. Who knew if one was really another agent.

"Morgana." Arthur's son repeated, unable to hold back the fear. "Merlin... And Camelot?" The question burned the warlock's throat as he struggled to answer.

"I will hold off Lot. Camelot might yet survive, in her people." (2) Merlin answered, he turned back to look at the field of death. Grief tearing him appart, when he leaves he was sure to bring some rain, to cleanse the land.

Too bad, he could not cleanse with rain, his pain away.

Llacheou opened his mouth to protest, before nodding. One of Loholt's main knights frowned. "And the capital?" He asked. Llacheou looked at him grievously before turning to the small force.

He cleared his throat and repeated the plans to his knights.

Leaving out Louernia as he spoke. There were words of comfort and the answering of questions, Merlin did not truly heard either, anyhow.

Most of Llacheou's closest knights were there, standing upfront. But none of them would become knights of the round table anymore, the concept was not lost to Gwen. But neither of the knights that stood there actually deserved it.

Merlin felt a pang of pain in his heart, as he saw his friends in their son. Arthur's and Gwen's son after all.

* * *

Llacheou looked as Merlin stared at the plains in sudden surprise, and blinked when the sorcerer swallowed loudly. "Merlin? Are you-" The boy seemed honestly worried over him, and Merlin felt sweet care, few people truly cared for him nowadays.

"I will be fine. Start walking." He commanded. "I will catch up, soon enough." Llacheou looked shocked.

The prince went white. "We are walking to Camelot?!" He asked. Merlin chuckled at his stunned face. "Were you not taking us with your powers?!" He looked demanding, looking just as Arthur did, and for this once the Warlock did not feel pain.

"Make an effort!" Merlin laughed. "Walking is good for you!"

Llacheou spluttered indignantly, he glared at Merlin. Arthur would be proud of their behavior, now he bantered with his son. As he began walking, in an attempt to make sure, how annoyed he was on statement.

He turned back at the field seeing then the figure waving at him once more, and Merlin began walking towards her. Llacheou looked confusedly at the spot Merlin was looking at, _could he not see her? Was it Morgana?_

He dodged the bodies of the fallen. But they seemed not to have fallen nearby her. Or they were moved, perhaps.

When he arrived at the woman, she was soaking wet, but she seemed fine. Happy. Unaffected. Funnily this was such a cold and windy night.

As he realized who she was, Merlin could not avoid having his jaw drop, that red dress. "I've missed you, Merlin."

Merlin blinked, and then smiled at the woman. "Freya?" He whispered. "How are you here?"

"I am here to fetch souls." She laughed. "Seeing you is a plus." Her hand stretched and grabbed his, and she saw right through the disguise. Had Merlin accepted how powerful he truly was, even she, a goddess in her own right, would not be able to do so.

But he held to his humanity, which she loved of him. Which made what she was to tell him, harder still.

He swallowed hard, keeping back the tears. "I thought you lost, to me."

She pulled him into a deep hug, her eyes sparkling like water. "I am." She mumbled to his ear. "For a very long time you and I will not meet again." He raised his eyes to look at her. "Merlin…" She said. "This is goodbye."

"Will I be able to summon you?" He asked, not pulling back. His heart could not stand much more pain.

"No." She answered softly. "The Old Religion will retreat into the corners of life. Untouched. And I…" She whispered. "I with it."

"No. Freya…"

"It is necessary." She whispered tears on her eyes. "The Old Religion will attempt to regain the balance lost today… And it will be forced to make some sacrifices."

"I can be one." He offered, she flinched. "The soul of Emrys, may restore balance. Right?" He was willing, sacrifice himself to bring back all the unjustly dead. Turn back time.

"Yes. Eventually. But not now. Not like this. I am sorry." She swallowed hard, looking disapprovingly at him.

He sighed, looking at the hill. "As am I." Llacheou stared at him from the distance, he looked worryingly at the wizard, he knew now that she could not see her. Freya was what they called the Reaper, unseen to all living beings.

And yet he saw her, clearly.

"I will see you again, Merlin." She promised, kissing his lips sweetly. "Someday."

"I will await for you." He vowed back.

She shook her head. "Do not; it will be in a long future from now."

"What about Morgana?" He asked. Freya's wisdom would be greatly appreciated, whatever the Priestess would become, he needed to know.

"Merlin. I cannot linger here."

"But… I have so much questions." He whined.

"Trust in the Old Religion, Merlin." Freya said, becoming whitish mist, her voiced echoed. "As it trusts you." He stretched his hand towards his love, she stretched back, but now he did not feel her at all. "Farewell." She said.

And like that, he had lost her yet again.

* * *

Gwen rushed forward and slapped Morgana as hard as she could. The priestess tasted blood as she fell to her knees, and out of the bed. Her head was somehow spinning, and she felt that now she could stay on the floor instead of lifting herself up to stare at her former bestfriend.

I most definitely deserved that. The witch thought.

Gwen stretched her arms and pulled the shocked woman into her arms, lifting her off the floor. Hugging sweetly, as a mother a child. "I am sorry." Morgana mumbled, her lips quivering. She was tired beyond sleep and her emotions were going haywire. The priestess could barely think.

"I am glad you return to your senses." Guinevere answered sweetly. "I lose a son, I get back a sister." The last words had Morgana reeling in surprise, her eyes were swiftly filling with tears. And she was bitting her lips so hard that it may bleed.

But Gwen did not look or feel happy at all. She was sure she would feel happy later on, but now her emotions were in no good state as Morgana's.

Morgana swallowed. "I am so sorry Gwen. I will burn in Avalon a thousand times for what I have done." She proclaimed.

"That fate Morgana Le Fay has earned." Gwen answered, Morgana looked down, feeling gutting pain as she mentioned the title the people had given her... A title to mock her now that she was not around anymore…"But Morgana Pendragon, has little deservance for such misery." The Queen refixed the hair of the priestess as they laid on the floor, as they had done before when they were maidservant and ward. "You have been given a new opportunity." And then added. "I just hope Loholt got that chance."

"Gwen..." Morgana hugged her, sharing the enormous pain of a mother who just lost her son, as they cried.

"I forgive you Morgana, for everything." And they both cried on each other's embrace. In which Gwen now felt as if her heart itself hurt.

* * *

Camelot. I am home. Merlin edged his fingers to the arch, when he was a servant he walked through the very same arch, every day. "Llacheou..." He called. The dark haired boy walked forward. "Yes?"

Merlin stared behind the boy, looking at the staircase. Arthur's room used to be up there, when he was the crown prince.

"Find your people; send them to the tunnels entrance." The prince nodded. He turned around and ordered the knights. "Merlin! My mother..." Llacheou said. Turning back at him... The aged face nodded.

"Morgana will fetch her." Llacheou shook his head but Merlin silenced him with a look. The prince turned around and through the courtyard. Merlin stood and shook his head. He couldn't stand up to Lot with this age. He raised his hand and de-aged himself a bit. He did not want to be recognized, no one would answer to Merlin the manservant. Or Dragoon, the insane wizard. But Lord Emrys would be heard.

He kept the beard, but now it was black. And his age was still a length older than Gwen now, but little more than Uther's. He transformed the rags into a cloak, a red and golden one. He placed a invoked gold headpiece in his eyebrows. He grabbed the staff.

Time to make a statement.

"Merlin?" Llacheou came back and blinked. "Whoa! You look..." Merlin chuckled.

"Alright, I hope." He followed the crown prince down to the dungeon with one thought on his mind. Old Lot would not know what hit him.

* * *

Camelot was not dead, but it might well had been. Silence, silence; as far as any could hear. But Lot was not fool, he was more intelligent than any Camelotian.

They were there. The Queen was a failure, the princes dead.

It would fall before the dawn rose... He would not fail.

Uther's magnificent city would be his. It would be his birthright and that of his children.

* * *

Merlin looked at the people in front of him. He recognized the cook, some of the younger knights that had not been taken to Camlaan; and, that had survived Arthur's sons disarray, as well. Elder Knights from Uther's guard. There was young Lohengrim, son of Percival.

His smile appeared and disappeared, in a flash. The young boy was younger than the prince, but he already exceeded Llacheou with an entire arm length.

Then some guards remained, some knights and the rest were common folk. Some nobles were causing problems. They yelled at the prince, who seemed to be running out of patience. They accused him of weakness, of being a failure, and many other things overall.

"We are all going to die!" A noble screamed. "No!" Llacheou answered, he raised his voice but the nobles did not shut up. They raised their voices as well.

And children cried, and women sobbed.

"Enough!" Merlin roared. Enhancing his voice with his magic. Everyone turned to stare at him and he felt his tongue catch on his throat. He wrote some of Arthur's speeches but he could never speak to a noble. Even less order one.

"I..." He tried. "Camelot." That did not work... "Erggh?". Stage fright, he berated himself, really Merlin?

The loud screams came back. "Listen up!" Guinevere screamed. Everyone silenced again, Merlin saw Morgana walk behind Gwen. And a noble pointed at her.

" **Is the Witch!** " The place was a sudden movement, every knight, soldier and a few lords, walked towards the Priestess in one menacing motion. While the women and children pulled back.

"Stop." Guinevere commanded. "She is with me." She jumped in front of the few soldiers.

They unwilling to attack their ruler, stopped looking at each other in surprise.

"Camelot will fall." Gwen continued. "These brave sorcerers will fall back and stay, while we pack and take off... They will hold up Lot and rejoin us later on... Then we will leave, we will rebuild. If any feels like trying their luck in the wilderness, you can with my blessing." She continued.

Lahaghrim looked around to see for anyone that might want to agree for those terms. He was tall, as tall as his father had been.

"And if we want to stay and help?" He asked.

"If you are of age. You may." Gwen conditioned. Lahaghrim snorted, looking down. Merlin chuckled.

"For Arthur! For the Love of Camelot!" And Merlin felt a pang of pain as he screamed… Percival had succumbed to disease a couple of years ago. And his son was a living image of himself.

They echoed the last phrase. Merlin looked at Morgana and nodded they turned away leaving to protect the castle.

For the first time, they seemed to agree… None would hurt any Camelotian, ever again.

She whispered something in his ear as they left the underground. "Gotta love the new look, Emrys."

* * *

 **1\. Louernia is the counterpart name of Albion, given to Ireland.**

 **2\. Camelot is a land… That makes it a female… Hence HER People**

* * *

 **A'N. Please Review!**

 **A'N. I am far from perfect; if you spot any grammatical errors please point them out!**

 **A'N. Hope the improved version makes you all happier, it is worki** ng for me! ;D


	3. Diagon Alley - 1991

**Disclaimer:** I absolutely own nothing..

* * *

 **Year 1992, August.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Like always, Diagon Alley was swarming with people. Since 1646 when Merlin and Morgana first stepped into the bricked floor... It was his favorite place, even more than Hogwarts... The people walking around, HIS people.

The men leaving the enormous bank with the silver doors. The children running around pointing stands and through the windows. The women running ragged after their children...

Merlin adored the stores, and by far his favorite was Florean's, Merlin had known him in Hogwarts and considered the middle aged wizard a dear friend. His store was small, sure. But Merlin felt it a real homey place.

He liked the rest a bit too. Putting Ollivander's next, he required no wand. When he used one he only challenged the power of the New Magic, but with a tiny hint of the old. Making his spells more grand than any of this time, even cast though a wand.

He held the wandmaker as a good friend.

Now there were many children positively glued to the store windows, whatever was in sale attracted their attention easily? Possibly a new broomstick, Merlin grimaced. He hated broomsticks, even if it was harder he preferred levitation & direction spells. Or a dragon.

Morgana and he avoided broomsticks. They tended to explode near him and her.

The blatant use of magic, the continued spectrum of magic and the essence of magical souls, the auras of the magical community… He had not felt magical presences in a long time, having lived as a Muggle for a couple of decades. Two lives of Muggles, actually.

The last time he had done so, he had done it in 1911, during the first great war.

He looked at the bank again... He missed Gringott, the goblin; together with him, they had founded the bank, and he was given a huge vault then... He had earned the hard won, Goblin respect. And that came in handy, the Emrys aura, as he called it; did not help with them. They were smart creatures, over-human intelligence, in most cases.

Centaurs also gave him a great deal of respect, as he figured importantly on the skies.

A huge man with a shaggy beard and a powerfully wild, and yet, surprisingly, gentle magical aura stepped next to him. Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper of Hogwarts.

"Lemme tell ya' "The man said to a small ogling figure at his right... "You'll be mad to try and rob it." The little boy whispered the poem at the entrance. Few knew that poem was more than just that, it was a sort of proper act code for Goblins. Gringott's favorite book of laws.

Written by himself. They often loved their own work more than others.

Merlin barely registered, Morgana in adult form bidding him farewell before she climbed down the staircase to Knockturn, lost in thoughts as he was.

He scratched his white beard, studying the Boy Who Lived as Harry entered the bank with wide eyes. "Say hello to Margo for me." He said, he never had known Margo, and regarding how highly the priestess spoke of her, he doubted he wanted to.

"Will do." Morgana whispered, in her mind. He knew there were dangers in Knockturn, so as her presence dimmed; he sent a small protective charm at her...

Merlin and Morgana were immortal, not invincible... The most powerful modern magic needed to hit them several times; three or four mostly, to affect them.

They were not impervious to any physical harm, but they had an impressive healing rate.

It made cooking really interesting, as Morgana 'was a priestess of the Old Religion, no mortal blade could harm her', that included steel stainless knifes... But not Goblin-made weaponry or blunt-force trauma, but she had survived Excalibur, so…

Also potions augmented doses by age, as 1500ish years old, they knew as fact, that all the sleeping potions in St. Mungo's, will barely get them drowsy. And that is why several dosed magic, needed a lot of, say, hitting.

Due to all of this, they both avoided the hospital. It was unnecessary, and drew much unwanted recognition. Especially considering Ol' Ambrose's 'grandfather' Merkator worked in Mungo's clinic a couple of years back. He even gave the wizard a capital to found it. Perhaps there was a statue of Merkator in there somewhere.

He chuckled, and suddenly felt the old religion pointing to Knockturn. And then turned to look at the alley, feeling distress. And innocence. He rushed to the entrance, drawing people attention.

Children often got into Knockturn, and though Morgana would say the people there are just misunderstood; she was obviously going to agree the place was dangerous for children.

He withdrew his wand as he went, wizard nearby shrieked and pulled back, a couple sent stunners his way, why? Merlin did not know? But Merlin blocked them effortlessly. He went to the first store in Diagon and shattered the door with his wand, feeling pain and fear. The sight that greeted him, made him sick.

A wizard stood over an obviously Muggle family with magical children. The wood creaked as Merlin walked into the dark room.

The hate for 'mudbloods' had reached new standards it seemed.

The wizard wore several heavy burned scarring, and long uneven hair. He was using the Cruciatus Curse on a fourth year boy, a Gryffindor. The screams were being contained by a silencing charm.

Merlin felt rage as he had not in ages. He raised his wand and blasted the wizard through the window up back to Diagon Alley, he apparated after the criminal, kicking the wand away from the calloused fingers.

"I have left you alone!" Merlin roared, he sent the dark wizard into a wall… The man coughed, pulling himself up and grabbed a poor witch and kicked her aside, a wand in his hand. The witch cried scaredly, as she crawled away.

Merlin's eyes narrowed and he lifted himself high. He wanted a duel? Why not? Merlin was going to break the dark wizard, and make an statement.

The wizard said an incantation and threw a snap of blackish fire at him; Myredero lifted his wand high and lifted a rock from the floor. The rock cracked and broke, but it withstood the attack. Merlin threw the remains of the rock back at the man.

He sent another spell as he dodged; he sent forth a green curse that Merlin knew, oh, so well.

There were ways to block it, but he was going to make a statement was he not?

He apparated again, and then lifted the man into the air. He threw him throughout the street, as people screamed and jumped back. The man hit his head against clinging wooden signs, before through a window which shattered loudly.

He swept his wand again, and the man was brought back struggling as if he faced a zip-line. Merlin then sent him high into the air, and over London. He brought forth a number of boxes full of cotton.

Before letting the coward fall, as he did, he probably broke several bones. Merlin moved the man upside down, so he could see the eyes of the murderous. He felt hatred and rage as he glared at him. And made absolutely no effort to hide it.

He then threw the man down Knockturn stairs with a stunner of the Old Magic. "How many were there? HOW MANY?!" He sent the man reeling into a front wall…

Aurors walked to grab him; one even stepped in front of him.

"Sir. We shall handle him."

Merlin snapped at the young Dark-Wizard catcher"Make sure, he never sees the lights of day, again."

Merlin dove into Knockturn to find the family. The hate eating him up whole.

Hagrid kept watching, unable to contain his curiosity, the boy at his side watched the Old Wizard with awe...

Merlin shook his head as he realized he had made a scene.

* * *

People in Knockturn Alley were often misunderstood. They were not that evil, or dark. Spurns of Society, trampled and mistreated; just like her, misunderstood... She had indeed dabbled in the dark Arts. And done evil, but her purpose had been Just. _How would the youth put it? Sometimes you had to do what was right, and damn the consequences._

She turned left, taking to a narrow, black slot. A place that possibly any normal wizard would have avoided.

She smiled as she knocked in the familiar brick wall. The wall disappeared and she walked in.

"Raven?" She heard an old crooked wail, "Is that you?"

Morgana smiled. "Yes. Margo it is me."

"Come on in, dear girl."

* * *

He bowed at the Goblin and the goblin bowed at him with a knowing face. Some people pointed. "Is that Old Mr. Ambrose?" An old woman mumbled.

Merlin scowled, he had used the Mr. Ambrose identity too long, it was his political persona. The old witch's husband shook his head, "He would be around 500 years old!" She was taking out her glasses, cleaning them to put them on and look at him.

"I have heard from a **_verrry_** reliable source that he made a Philosopher's stone!" Another witch interjected. Her two friends continued the talk about him as they made their way out the bank.

A restaurant waiter turned around and whispered. "He has Goblin blood, which is why they bow to him." The waitered couple nodded, they offered their glasses at the waiter who served them, more Satyrwine.

It actually made sense, Goblin blooded Wizards lived long. But they were rather short, and Merlin was quite tall, thank you… for his age.

Merlin felt the waiter nod with proudness as he walked to another table, where he started a conversation with a customer. Probably about Old' Ambrose, too.

"He's Vampire, right, Julius?" A middle aged wizard, with red hair and a purple bowtie; fueling his pipe suggested to his companion.

"An old vampire? Please!" His friend said, taking a sip of firewhisky. The Red haired wizard who followed him shuggered, putting the pipe in his mouth.

"Could'a happen." He said sprouting a bunch of smoke as he said it. "Look at how he captured that dark wizard." As far as Merlin knew that was bordering impossible, Vampires looked for fresh young blood. And also Vampires avoided him; his blood was poisonous to them. They felt it.

And he had found it in the most unpleasant way. With a young man named Vlad and his father.

"Too true, Mervio." Julius said. "I saw a wanted poster, last week in the ministry. That was Cain Grausam, the most powerful You-Know-Who's servant never caught, that's who." Merlin flinched, now he had made a name for himself.

"Do you think he is as powerful as Dumbledore?" A young man asked his girlfriend.

She snorted, turning to look at him. "He is older than Dumbledore!" She retorted, with a laugh.

"So is Flamel…" Merlin tuned them all out, grimacing at the rumors. People had often ignored Old Ambrose. They thought him old, not powerful. He did not want that much pressure from the masses.

He kept walking into the bank. Taking his time, he did not want to rush it. He tried not to react to the words and whisperings of his peers, but he could not fully avoid hearing them all.

Wizards lived longer than humans, most a decade or two; some lived even five decades more. Dumbledore was 106, now. He had known a few people, over the years; there was one lady who had almost been 342 when she died.

But 500 years was pushing it. He had to talk to Morgana for making a funeral arrangement for Old Ambrose, a pity, as he was a useful asset. A way to control politics and influence people, the wise old Wizard stereotype, was still respected.

Morgana liked that very much. Now, she could do it, next time.

But youths had started to avoid the wisdom of the elders. Thank the goddess, as most elders had Mudblood & Blood purity politics…

The enormous hall with marble floors came into his view. He went straight to the bank governor... He always did. "Rudius. Good Day." Harry Potter was having his key inspected just know. Apparently Hagrid had taken a bit of clumsy time…

"Lord Emrys, a pleasure." The goblin bowed.

"I've come to make a withdrawal." He said. Stretching his hand giving the large key... The creatures' long fingers took the old key and inspected it. His fingernails run through the number and using a small magnifying glass overlook the end of the object.

Rudius was obviously playing along. As fact, he always knew Merlin to be who he was. He could feel it.

Merlin stared at the ceiling; he loved the glass and the light it brought, so he let some of his magic loose and re-evaporated the clouds. He could do with more light.

"Vault number 7." The Goblin announced. A few people looked up, completely bemused... A woman's hand trembled and her bag scattered through the floor, throwing coins, an old broken wand and several books on its wake.

Immediately, Merlin walked forward and using his wand assisted the woman in picking things up.

Rudius took this advantage and called for Griphook, who grudgingly walked forward; then the bank manager, told his employee the indications for Mr. Emrys.

Two or three more wizards came forward to help, obviously trying to impress, old powerful Myredero Ambrose. He knew, as they kept glancing at him. One even had the audacity to pass the object to give at him, instead of the woman.

Merlin helped the woman up, as he glared daggers at the audacious youth. "Are you alright ma'am?" Trying to keep his annoyance hidden, young arrogant wizards; and also the annoyance to himself, he had to stop helping people! He was drawing attention to himself…

"Yes." She answered. "Merlin bless your good heart." He felt amused at her words. "Thank you." Merlin was actually cursing his good heart. He nodded and looked back at the governor.

"As you know, sir." Rudius said, having followed Merlin to the cart. "Most vaults before 625 were either destroyed, or emptied a long time ago," The goblin huffed. "So yours occupies slot 714 now. It was not as full and we had to move all the objects to accommodate, the growth. We had to make it smaller as well, we hope you don't mind." Merlin nodded. "You will have to take a long route..." He opened a door with his magic, letting Merlin walk down the stairs, right to those horrible carts.

Merlin grimaced. "It is alright, Rudius. I have time." Being immortal did not save them from being nauseous. And those carts had a very revolting effect.

"So you do, sir." The goblin said. "If you intend to sell anything, I would give you a fair price..."

While most wizards would have been insulted, Merlin chuckled. "I do have some antiques; I will see what I can part with." After living for so long, for Merlin, material objects held little value. Except from the essentials and those treasured things, he kept it all at his 'room' in Hogwarts or at the bank. Those that had little sentimental value, he could sell to the Goblin. Sadly, for Rudius, those that did were very few. Merlin blamed himself, he was as he'd put it, 'A sentimental old fool'.

And Morgana would skin him alive if he sold anything of hers…

He followed Griphook, to a cart and sat in the back seat. "Mr. Ambrose? Is it you?"

He looked at the giant man. "Rubeus Hagrid, am I right?" He gave the man a 'council-smile', those reserved to Uther, the council and Geoffrey of Monmouth. Also the cook of Camelot, did that woman really never liked him, at all.

He was to annoyed, tired and hunched right then, to smile properly.

" Yes, sire. Crickley. 's a real ple'sure sir, truly. I alw'ys wante' to meet yeh.'' Merlin shook the giant's enormous hand, or rather, Hagrid's index; then he proceeded to shake Harry's. The boy shook nervously, slowly and hesitatingly. Merlin knew the child would be tongue-tied he only told him he had his great grandfather's nose.

Henry and he had been good friends, in fact that was what drew him to James and Lily to begin with, he had been named. Also too, he had actually told Henry, or amusingly Harry, as they called him; his real identity when the man was in his deathbed.

Henry had been a good man, with an enormous heart.

"Aye, aye. All mine young fella'." Merlin said, using his old man voice. "I remember your father, Procerus. A fine young man, he was."

"Thank you, sir. Thank yeh. Dear Me... I woulda' never 'spected…" Hagrid bawled his eyes with his enormous hands. Taking out a small neckerchief, and blew loudly.

"Rubeus. Do tell Dumbledore I will visit him shortly." Merlin winked at him. Dumbledore and he were old friends, only the Headmaster did not know it.

* * *

Having taken care of all adult deeds, Merlin and Morgana were taking out the new Hogwarts identity, by doing something deeply childish and innocent, eating ice-cream. Florean Florescue's parlor was a meeting place of sorts.

They did it before starting school every year… Meet and discuss, no one would consider a meeting important if it occurred in a magical parlor.

"So let's go over it, again." As he sat with his cone.

"Let's." Morgana agreed. Florean smiled at them, and gave him the sales ticket, which he paid quickly. Sometimes he thought the Ice cream man knew who he was, Florean always served him the same ice cream and always gave him the same toppings. They were his favorites.

Morgana instead often changed them.

My name is Martin Ellis Ambrose, you are Ellaine Morgan. I was born on December 21st 1988, you on October 27th on the same year." He recited. The names were common enough and had a ring of familiarity around them... He had chosen the Ambrose name so he could kill off Myredero and start again.

She muttered absentmindedly. "Keep going." They often did this and it went alright… But now there was more pressure than before, he could not mess up anymore.

"You are a muggle - born. I am half blood." True, so they could lace some truth into their lies. It helped, when they had to say them.

She took a bunch of Ice cream and then frowned. "Really? A millennium and a half old, and still I get brain freeze.

Merlin laughed at her. And she glared at him, he shuggered at her. That was how they often worked, teasing and annoying each other. Almost like he did Arthur, but Merlin avoided calling her names, she was still a lady through and through.

There was the jingle sound of a new customer. "Well Draco, what flavor would you like?" Merlin turned to look at the boy, a white-blond haired kid wearing expensive clothes. The way he stood reminded, the old sorcerer, of arrogant prince Arthur.

Both Merlin and Morgana turned to look at the new arrival. "Pistachio will do, Mother." Morgana looked at her own pistachios. She grimaced and took another bite, making Merlin laugh. As she smiled.

Florean prepared the cone and gave it to the silvery-blond. Who began looking at the selection of toppings, and walking around them, trying to choose one.

Merlin glanced out of the window as Draco's mother left. He had taught Narcissa Malfoy himself, she was not a bad evil person overall. Perhaps she had a sort of need to be what others expected of her.

Her loyalty to her family was strong, but she seemed to want something better for her son. She loved him more than she wanted to please anyone.

He felt his ice cream wiggle and invoked a dish, as it fell down. He looked up; Florean Fortescue looked at him with a knowing grin. He shruggered.

Deciding on it, he stood up going to the counter. He grabbed a cone, and turned around bumping into Draco chest first. He groaned at his stupidity.

Making the blonde spill his Ice cream all over his shirt. "What on Earth is your problem?!" Draco Malfoy screamed. Chattering his teeth over the cold mix, Morgana looked at them suddenly, her eyes had been drawned to the passway.

"I am very sorry. It was an accident!" Merlin defended, his voice adopted a shrill tone in the end. Morgana could not help laughing, like Arthur and Merlin all over again.

Draco grabbed a napkin and began scrubbing at his shirt. "Well if you are not the biggest clumsier idiot I've ever met!" He pushed Merlin. Who managed quite normally to catch himself, _clumsiness a bit gone? Had he used magic?_ , Morgana thought.

"Are you not the prat-ish bully to walk the Earth..." Merlin growled. He resisted the urge to turn the boy into a bowl of Ice cream and give it to Florean. As a gift. Not that it would taste any good.

"You cannot speak to me like that. Do you know who I am?" Merlin was forcefully reminded of the Arthur he disliked. The Bully Prince of Camelot who he had met upon arrival.

Merlin obviously knew, but he mumbled humorlessly. "The son of the King?" Morgana saw the sadness in his eyes. And though she chuckled, she felt it too. The dull sense of lateness, pain and nostalgia, made stronger through a millennia. That was what kept them together, the understanding that came.

No one else did understand one another. Sometimes when they felt giddy they would talk in the English they were born into. Saying old, happy jokes that were said in camping when she would join him and Arthur. Telling anecdotes. Drinking… Morgana fermented her own alcohol, it was so strong that one glass or two would leave Merlin a laughable and joyful idiot…

He often called her… My beautiful Priestess. To her great amusement, and it left a hell of a magical hangover. It was a magical drink, twenty times more powerful than Firewhisky, which did not affect any of them at all.

"I am a Malfoy." The boy announced, proudly. And proudly, Morgana rolled her eyes.

Merlin of course knew, and Morgana knew. The warlock just snorted. "Is that supposed to mean anything to me?" He asked, Draco flinched.

Malfoys... They were a handful... Arrogant and Prideful. Just like Arthur was. Powerful too. With the capacity to change the world. At least the wizarding one. A great skill and ability lay in them, an enormous capacity, most of which was used to do wrong. Merlin could not blame the inbreeding, but the very thought made him sick.

The arrogant child, snorted back. "IF you were a PURE blood you would know WHO I am." They had been able to use the old magic for longer than most, but the ability too was lost eventually… He remembered where they came from.

Malfoy the eldest was the descendant of a priestess and a noble, there laid the greatness in Old Magic. But they were all Half-blood, just like him.

And still they promoted purity of blood like maniacs, Merlin frowned.

"I know who you are, Draco. That doesn't change anything." Merlin growled.

Draco Malfoy looked slightly impressed. "Then you are an idiot." He stated. An almost Pendragon scowl laid in the boy's face. Morgana stared hard, she almost recognized that glare… Well that was nice.

He was not a descendant of Llacheou, his descendants had somehow returned to Royalty. The Queen for instance was a descendant of the Crown Prince.

And as Loholt had died a teenager… Maybe they had something to do with Uther more than Arthur. Had Uther any siblings? In any case it explained the misbehavior and cruelty of these children of Malfoy. Also again the inbreeding, that well...

Merlin put his hand unto his pouch and took out a package of 25 galleons and gave it back to Malfoy. Draco gaped at it, now really impressed. Of course, Draco would never be given that much money for him to carry, he would likely beg for the stuff he wanted. And he would most likely get his way, anyhow.

"That should cover the shirt and more." Merlin said. He turned around to Morgana; she gave him THAT knowing look... Merlin raised an eyebrow at her, and she winked.

"Ready to go?" He offered. She took the last bite of her Ice Cream and stood. Merlin left five galleons in the table for Florean.

She smiled. "That is gracious." No one left that much. But Merlin had money enough. And he was not selfish; he often paid people way overdue. And also made charities; muggle and wizard-world alike.

"Who are you?" Malfoy grabbed his arm, the boy stare was demanding, Merlin knew what he meant… Very few families in all the Wizardly World had that much money, like a magical version of Bill Gates. Magical Billionaires… He himself had quite the amount.

Very long years and a lot of time, patience, too. "Why, Draco? Afraid you just insulted the son of someone more powerful than your father?" Merlin teased.

He wondered what would have been Arthur's reaction if he had been royal, too. He grinned, the idea was amusing enough, Arthur would have looked like Draco did. The resemblance was kind of scary… But then the Pendragon's had been a old family. A distant relative, perhaps? Or was it the Black side?

"You are pureblood, obviously." Draco declared, looking at the package of coins. "That much money…"

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but" Merlin turned around to get another cone, which he promptly ate. He grinned at Morgana from the stands. "I am half-blood."

"What is your family name?" Merlin just raised his eyebrows. "What is it?!" Draco grabbed him by his shirt, Merlin coughed loudly. A few wizards and children looked at them. Malfoy slowly let his hands drop.

Merlin shook his head. "Have you ever heard of the word, patience? Or 'please' for that matter?"

Draco snorted, before slowly looking down at the floor, and answered grudgingly. "…please?" Morgana gasped and applauded. Malfoy glared at her… Thank the goddess the store is small, she thought, he would not stay back otherwise.

"Now, that is much better." Merlin slipped, raising his eyebrows jokingly to Morgana. Who giggled, covering her mouth with a napkin.

"I said PLEASE." Draco muttered, looking annoyed and desperate. Morgana laughed loudly, Draco glared at her. And she made a point to laugh even harder.

"Alright… no need to be pushy…" Merlin laughed _. You should feel shame, Emrys_ ; Morgana sent through their connection; _Annoying a boy many centuries your junior, for entertainment_. Merlin smiled. "I am Ambrose." The name had always a great pull.

 _He is so easy to annoy, isn't he? Just as Llacheou, and Arthur._ He sent back with a mental shrug.

And besides, Draco Malfoy's scowl was priceless… His eyes had widened and his lip had become thin, indeed. Draco's hand had fallen, and with it the napkin, covered with melted green ice-cream, which hit the tiled floor.

Merlin almost saw the boy mind's working, and he realized Malfoy had begun considering the consequences.

Morgana laughed, Merlin offered his hand to her.

"That is also very gracious." Morgana commended. He just shrugged... He knew she had a double sense, of how funny the reaction Draco had been.

Merlin and she walked away from the Parlor. As they left Merlin snuck a last glance at Draco. He glared.

And as he did, Merlin felt the power of the Old Religion; he flinched, and saw the blonde preteen smirk smugly apparently thinking he did that happen.

Merlin stared hard at Morgana; she just kept walking obviously ignorant that he had just felt something they had not in years. Last time he remember feeling anything remotely was when Voldemort was born…

The thing on Diagon, or rather Knockturn did not count… It was part of his doing, mostly.

Nearly five decades ago or so, the Old Religion had screamed to them so loud, that both had fallen to the ground, trying desperately to throw it off.

Very inopportune as Merlin had been walking through Hogwarts and Morgana hanging out with the rest of students, the sudden burst had their magic explode, literally out of their bodies. Scars still remained in the grounds.

It had made the otherwise nice and sweet, small whopping Willow. Angry and well, Whoopy. And now that it was the size it was, well…

Anyway, Merlin had destroyed the cups and glass in most, if not all, of the Castle. Morgana had created a small personal storm where she stood; thousands had seen it happen... hundreds were hurt. Thankfully, none died. It was pretty sizable though, he had not ever lost control like that, or since.

As they left Morgana just kept on talking, she pulled him out through the Alley, and this time Merlin was in no mood to enjoy the scenery. "-He actually reminds me of a young prince and his brother," She said, looking gleeful "They had come to Camelot with her aunt, Uther had wanted me to keep watching over the prince and his brother… They ran me ragged I tell you running away while I was not looking… And also running. They had shunned me off when I asked them to slow down. SO Rude." Her voice turned sour. "Very rude. And nearly got me eaten by a wyvern, it actually flew off with me and threw me in a lake! Arthur was pissed, and then…" Merlin did not have the heart to stop her; she usually never spoke of Camelot… It was good for her.

He had never heard this story, either. But he was busy.

His mind was somewhere else, or rather with someone else…

 _Whatever Malfoy turned to be, he would have a greater part to play_

* * *

 _ **A'N. Do you notice the small ode to one of Katie McGrath's other role? Could not help just adding it in… I really hope she gets**_

 _ **A'N. Sorry about the 456 words that I missed, I just had no more ideas for this chapter. I hope you can forgive and forget….**_

 _ **A'N. There goes chapter 3.**_

 _ **My great thanks and appreciation to Asteroth1 for collaborating with me for this.**_

 _ **Hope you enjoy it. I will try to bring the next chapter just as Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 was; in record time...**_

 _ **I am not going to start changing anything major in the story just yet.**_

* * *

 ** _R_ _eview if you can... Please. Let me know what you think._**

 ** _A poll was implemented for YOU to choose Draco's role... It will last until chapter 5 is brought..._**


	4. In King's Cross - 1991

**Hey friends!**

 **Hope you like the edit!**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 **In King's Cross.**

* * *

 **1991, September the 1st, 10:15 AM**

* * *

The Great Train from King Cross station was the first thing Merlin heard, the sound of the enormous whistle.

Aparating in middle of platform 9 3/4 was risky business... With one third of the British Magical Populace just right there, watching; getting caught was a possibility. True, they had never gotten caught. Not once.

Wizards would say Muggles were stupid and just did not notice… But they did not notice a lot of things too…

Well, the worst case scenario was getting banned from Hogwarts due to not needing the education. It was not like they could arrest him due to being powerful.

Getting banned, now, that was exactly the worse that could ever happen.

If it did he could always get the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts... It had a standard invitation. And though it was cursed, if anyone could break that spell… It was him.

Ol' Ambrose would be very welcome.

But then he could not infiltrate Harry's friends, and earn his trust. He needed that. "Martin?" Someone purred. Merlin grinned, he knew immediately who it was… His smile grew when he turned, scouring for the intruder.

" 'Gana?" Merlin whispered. The brunette smiled at him, her hair in a bun. Morgana and he had agreed to go separately into King's Cross, they always did anyhow… And today was no different, being alone made it easier to join with a group and make friends… Having friends was a way to blend up.

Children were just complicated, and dealing with them was tiresome some times.

She looked nicer than any common eleven year old in the place. "It is amusing." He pointed out. Looking at her eyes, they seemed to have some magical effect on people. It made her impressive, in any case. Like a girl a grandmother would point out to her grandsons and say, 'look she is pretty. Why don't you go talk to her?' Much to the boys' annoyance.

And they would turn at their relative and say: 'Gramps!' or something of the sort, they always did. And they always looked Mortified as they did.

"What is?" She laughed. And it was obvious that she liked that… A lot.

"You always manage to look real beautiful with any form you take." He smiled at her. Morgana smiled back, grinning widely. This time Merlin was sure the smile was an authentic one this time. She loved flattery, as soon as you did not go entirely overboard. But to her overboard was kind of far away…

"Merlin. I am eleven." She giggled, "Pedophile." That was actually an old joke of them, a running gag of a sort; when he checked out a girl or her, a boy, they would laugh out loud and call each other crib-assailant. Not that deep inside they wished they could have something with a woman besides the witch.

"I am eleven, too." He said…

And so they were, but that didn't stop her from using her perfume. HER Perfume.

She still made it, herself; it was subtle and delicious; it fitted her perfectly.

Whatever the perfume was made of, Merlin was sure it was complimented with magic. Or alcohol, as it made him dizzy and feeling a bit like drunk... And also it made her scent entirely addictive.

Morgana had used it for hundreds of years and it still affected him like the first time he smelled it. When a child smelled it, it was very amusing, they seemed stunned and confused. Some children actually followed her just to smell the liquid.

In Camelot, she had let him smell a cloth bathed on the liquid, and he had not been able to walk properly for the rest of the evening. It had annoyed Prince Arthur deeply... Uther more so. She had not known magic then, but she had somehow used it with her perfume.

It was the first time she met him. And the memory of it was still edged on both their minds. "Feeling denial? You know what they say..." He teased. She glared at him, Ladies and their age... "1362 is the new 40." She tried not to smile, and look menacing. Just like that time when you tease anyone, it went higher. "And besides, you don't even have wrinkles! Or look like Uther for that matter." He added. "Thank the goddess."

"Merlin!" She shrieked, drawling loudly. She still got annoyed out of almost anything, but she was not really that mad. But then he had just compared her to Uther, and it annoyed her, even in looks. "Stop it, would you?!" Making the people in the place stare at her, in surprise and mild annoyance.

She stared back, real embarrassed at her outburst. Most of them shook their heads and went back to whatever they were doing; often some searched for them among the masses.

Merlin remitted to grinning at her stupidly. Morgana was just a tad upset, if she were angry, she would have stormed off almost leaving actual lightning behind. That is how he killed his first car; he got into a heated argument with her. And it ended up with a bolt frying the object of her frustration; his 1962 Ford. He slept out, that week...

The beautiful ward had a temper when it came to speed driving. Especially when she had to drive him to pay the fine. Two hours straight of yelling... And when she got angry, really angry her voice tinted with a really deep and scary echo.

Merlin shivered, he hoped the fact that people had stared weirdly would not make her a fury... Her fits were literally explosive... And she was so vain...

She just smiled sarcastically, biting her lip. She walked towards him and threw her not - so - small handbag into his hand and pushed the bag courier towards him. The other bigger three bags lay. She was a student at Hogwarts, how much clothes could she possibly need? "You'll carry my bags." She announced, cruel revenge on her eyes.

Then Merlin understood her vengeance. This was not worth annoying her, he preferred yelling. Those bags had to be as heavy as the train, or somewhat. He had told her to use an undetectable expansion and weightless spell. But she never did.

He would have to cheat. But Morgana couldn't find out. It wouldn't be nice to know her, otherwise... Her pranks were always the worse; if he was not an immortal he would obviously not have survived. Her worst had ended with him hanging over a ledge on the Everest. And just because he had eaten the last piece of pie.

Not that HE did not prank HER… But his pranks were not as diabolic as hers. And she was a lady; Hunith had taught him to respect women.

In the end the rope had broken and he had had to magic himself out, much to Morgana's displeasure. She certainly knew how to hold a grudge, they had done it so for a fair long while.

How on Earth did he become a manservant, again? And to Morgana! Being her's was worse than being Arthur's, how did Gwen even manage?

But then Morgana felt some sort of Sadistic Pleasure by forcing him to work for her; was it by manipulation or otherwise, he always ended up doing things for her.

Can I use Magic?" He called out at her. She turned to look for him behind the frame. "How would Uther put it?" She said sarcastically. "I'll burn you on a stake!" And she was much capable of doing so…

She sniggered as she climbed in, and he saw her wink at him from behind an open door. Inside the train, some boys stared at her, Morgana had the aura of a true seductress. A third year even followed her around for a while before she noticed and turned back, prompting the Gryffindor boy to jump into the nearest stall, hitting the occupants and causing them to trip. They did not seem wanting to fight…

The third year muttered something to one of the kids in there, another third year apparently as he was just opening one of the books for that curriculum. And both Merlin and Morgana grinned when the four occupants joined in stalking the witch, who acted as she did not notice.

She always made herself so pretty that boys, who had not yet become attracted to girls, still were eager to see her.

Even children could feel it. Typical; Boys wanted to be with her, and Girls to be her.

She never dated though. They are like children, Merlin; Morgana often said. Neither did he, even if he liked somebody, she would never understand. Only the King's ward did.

Merlin laughed when Morgana thumbed up at him, and when she winked at him. But it turned into an exhausted 'ha' just as he looked at the bags.

Morgana was nice most of the time. 75% of the time, if Merlin had to number it up.

Except when she wanted something of you, and her claim was somehow 'fair'; or you made her angry, then she went into her evil- powerful-sorceress form. And sometimes she also saw fair in an extremely unorthodox way.

And it was not in any way, ever, pretty

* * *

Harry Potter, as far as Morgana was concerned, was very interesting. He had all the right to be a hateful boy; angry; to feel abandonment; resentment; but he was not like that.

The boy was pure.

And purity was something hard to come by these days. Merlin wasn't, and she most certainly was not.

When you touched the darkness, no matter how briefly, it never let go. And they both had done it, she much more than he.

Morgana had lost her mother at around his same age. Three or four years later, Gorlois had followed Vivianne.

And they had left Morgana an orphan, a ward to a violent King, and a sibling, to her unknown brother who was a rude, loud and obnoxious boy.

She had been furious with her father during the first years. How could he leave her with Uther? How could he go to battle without reinforcements? How could he die?

She had blamed the gentle man whom she had called father for a long while. For her, then, current predicament. She had felt a lot of really mixed emotions.

And guilt. She shouldn't feel that way about her sire, right?

Morgause for all of the good or evil that had brought to her life. Had brought all those emotions to front... Her sister too, had felt it all, it may have been madness.

Merlin said, that it maybe had been Morgause's fault... But he had said it like a presumption of insanity.

They had fought for that implication of his, but they always argued anyway.

Merlin... She owed him a lot. He brought her back out of the darkness. Her methods were bloody and messy, she was deeply mistaken about them. She was right about her cause, of course.

Merlin and she agreed that they both were wrong, if they were to go back. If they could. Things would have gone through a different path.

They would have worked together.

But unlike her, Harry Potter was pure, he had a heart that was untainted. He had to be guided.

This was her chance of redemption, she thought as she slid the compartment door. Just as Harry was raising his bangs to show the redhead.

"Hi, Ellaine Morgan." She introduced herself. Harry and Ron froze, Harry dropped his hair, and put his hand down as though it stung; like he did something wrong. Perhaps he did not want everyone to know who he was.

The boys stared at each other, and then at her; _Whenever did she got in?_

The looks she received from them both were quite amusing.

They looked at her eyes, that was the only feature that remained Morgana's. Not that they knew, anyway. She was probably going to turn some looks. She always did. Just as she liked it, her beauty brought admiration. It was a noble thing.

She often dressed to impress. Wearing beautiful dresses of expensive designs.

"Harry."

"Ron..."

She smiled, at the children. "Nice meeting you both, is that seat taken?"

* * *

Merlin cleaned his head with the back of his hand. Passive Magic or not, Morgana had an extreme love of material objects. Apparently the heaviest, the better.

Snooty Noble. "That is the funniest thing I've ever seen," A shrill voice suggested. "You are like a slave to the mudblood." The first thing Martin saw what Draco was wearing. Merlin was just wearing a blue shirt, a wool jacket and a couple of muggle jeans, instead of Draco's heavy red ones, dragon hide; Merlin noticed. Very expensive, Malfoy wanted to make an statement that Merlin always avoided doing.

He did not wear anything that gave that sort of image. Sometimes he brought something of emotional importance. His father's small statue was now connected on a chain. And now it hanged from his neck. The warlock also had his neckerchief, which covered the wooden dragon in his neck, he was rather fond of it and couldn't throw it away. But it was not the same anyway, Morgana had resowned it again, and again; several times, over. She could not stand her companion wearing ugly clothing, as it reflected on her image.

She would probably prefer he go naked than wearing serf clothing again.

He frowned. "Do not call her that." He said on defense of his companion.

"Or what?" Draco said, walking to the door. "You will ran to your guardian crying?" The silvery-blond crossed his arms, trying to look daunting, but Merlin could not see it. For him Draco looked downright annoying. But perhaps he was teeny tiny bit biased.

Go to myself crying?, Merlin chuckled softly. "Are you sure that you want to Alienate the Ambrose family? Myredero has a number of supporters everywhere."

And they send so much fan letters that his Manor had a huge hall for the owls, and a basement for the letters... And he had to learn almost six languages to read them all. Some were quite extent. Or odd. Or downright wrong?

Morgana would do it. She would take the roll of the political figurehead the next two times. She liked the idea better.

He was a just a humble serf, with a lot of time and money. So much it would make a King jealous. Another reason for Uther to hate him, but then he was already dead. But he often feel joy by believing that he had surpassed Arthur's barbaric father.

He really was not vain, he was not haughty about his fortune; people went through so much need. The world had changed, and not exactly for the best. People thought that everything was a political scheme. But it was not, he really cared for the people. More than once had he dropped all his money, given all away, started anew. Not recently though. With how close he needed to keep his cards to his chest, he could really not lose all currency.

Drew much media attention. Or attention, in General.

His kin. As it went. Even the Malfoys, as annoying as they were.

"Crabbe and Goyle can only get you so far." Merlin said knowingly.

The fact that Merlin knew Draco's associates so well seem to aggravate the blond. He went as red as the Hogwarts express on the background. Merlin sniggered.

"Have you been... Spying on me?" Malfoy said. The almost royal stance on him now gone, albeit temporarily. Draco composed quickly enough.

"You know Martin, when I told my father Ambrose had gotten another protégé, he couldn't believe it." He often did connect his family with a protégé relationship, so the money was explained. He and Morgana had long worked on a system to make their lives easier.

Merlin snorted. "Did you tell your how you treated the protégé? And heir?"

Malfoy glared. "You spilled Ice cream on me!" The scream was that of a whiny boy who was used on getting his way.

Merlin groaned at the stubbornness of the boy. "I said sorry! And I paid for the shirt!"

"That doesn't make it up!" Draco screamed. The whole of magical King Cross was now looking at them. The small crowd was full of children pointing, his future classmates.

What a way to make a name for themselves.

"It should!" Merlin frowned. "Is it an ego thing?! Are you trying to control me or something? I am not like your puppets, Draco." For him and Morgana, the Malfoy's egotistical ways were a running gag.

Once actually a Malfoy had pursued Morgana's attentions. And when she refused he had tried to take her by force… The priestess was not so keen with the idea. The Malfoy's were now cursed, actually, a slight curse of her design... A Malfoy would always be embarrassed by a woman. It brought amusing events.

And it was harmless, mostly.

"You can't speak to me like that! I am not a filthy mudblood like your friend!" The blond declared. Merlin felt annoyed anger grow hot on his chest, how dare he? He thought. And for a moment there, Draco Malfoy would be a worm on the ground. But then he had not seen a girl embarrass the idiot yet… In fact there had been no public embarrassment for his father either. Merlin just could not wait.

Perhaps he would turn Draco Malfoy into something much more original given the time…

Merlin?; Morgana asked through their bond; are you alright?

"Why on earth not?! You better stop trying to make me your political pet, or I swear to Merlin I will not me held myself accountable for my actions!" Merlin ran into the train with fury in his eyes, he vaguely congratulated himself for saying Merlin instead of the triple goddess. That would not have been very smart… He turned back at Draco. "And as far as I am concerned, Draco, the Dark Lord was never really interested in blood purity."

Draco froze, shocked. Perhaps Merlin should not have said that, and he knew it, but Malfoy was so infuriating that he may be the only person he knew who deserved being called Clotpole after Arthur.

The boy had that grin. THAT Really annoying smile that made him want to turn the Malfoy into something to incarnate his anger and annoyance at the Blood Maniacs.

Anything less than a slimy slug would fall desperately short. And perhaps he still could do better. Maybe

"Is that Myredero's ward?"; Someone whispered. "And Lucius Malfoy's son?"

A red haired man with glasses and a small bald nodded. "I am betting Lucius will not like it." Of course he would not, Malfoy may be a fool. But he was a smart one.

There was nothing more profitable than business partnering with Myredero Ambrose.

He had partnership with the best, even with Saint Mungo's.

And a man that old with a political life that long was likeable. Very much. He had done partnerships with some Wizarding Families through the ages, he had favored the Prewetts, the Potters and more recently the Longbottons… He had a nice steady friendship with Augusta. Who he often had tea with…

It would be one time that any of the shamed family tried to interest Merlin with the fate of their business. A business grown, watered by blood; Merlin had told Sangrio Malfoy. Draco's great-great grandfather. Morgana laughed so loud, she had actually exploded her cup of imported Jasmine tea… Merlin had not been amused, he loved that cup.

The Malfoy were magical leeches. They followed money as moths a flame. They knew every coin that passed from one hand to the other.

And they did almost anything to obtain it. They were unpopular, but no one showed contempt, they were as powerful and rich as unpopular. They did have their supporters though; families, purebred, as stupid as arrogant and covetous. And perhaps, the worst thing was they had a knack to try and steal power, just a little of it allying with the powerful immediately. Merlin just hoped that his show on Knockturn did not have Lucius Malfoy knocking on his door…

Merlin gave them the benefit of the doubt, but Morgana, refused to give them anything similar. As she refused to be a Slytherin. Merlin still respected Salazar in death… He often went into the house, afterall not all Slytherins were that bad. And that applied to Malfoys too.

She said that the house was full with dark magic... And she wouldn't be seduced by it ever again.

The methods she had planned for Camelot were turned around by the darkness.

Everything she did was for the sake of her cause. Every time she delved deep into the mouth of the wolf, so to speak, was for the sake of her cause.

Everything she did no matter how fell, it was justified.

For the Greater Good. That was how she defended her actions.

Such thought often hit Merlin hard. He wandered what could have been. And now, particularly, so much that he was not really looking at where he was going. He was lost in thought.

Was he that hypocritical? He often had thought exactly the same about Arthur. Perhaps he and Morgana difference lied only in sides…

And then he entered the hall and hit a girl with bushy hair, upfront. She tripped back, unable to reobtain her balance. "I am so sorry." He offered her a hand, and helped her stand. "Sorry. Are you okay?" She glared at him for a moment before realizing that he truly meant it, in which her eyes softened.

"It's alright." She said. "Hermione Granger." Hermione raised her hand slightly shyly.

He smiled, shaking her hand. Relaxing a little. "Martin Ellis Ambrose." He did not want to make an antipathy acquaintance on his first day. Draco, well, he did not count…

"Ambrose? Like..." She cleared her throat. Her eyes had widened a little, " Like Ambrose?" She whispered. "Are you? "He shook her hand slowly. And then followed her as they looked for a place to sit. "The Adoptive son of Myredero's. Yes."

"That is amazing!" Hermione exclaimed, suddenly out of shyness. "He is in every history books in the public library at Diagon! And he has a feature in History of Magic!" Of course, he did, Bathilda was a dear friend of Myredero's.

He enjoyed Hermione's company, she seemed to be nerdy. Probably loved to learn. He liked that. "Did you know that?"

It reminded him of a few people he had met, Mrs. Bagshot included. And of himself a bit, he loved learning about magic, it was an Emrys thing.

"I do." He had every book that spoke about himself. In any language. As well as the clippings of the Prophet. It was not an ego thing, he just liked to see them. Making sure he was making a difference. That he was noted. He wished he could do more sometimes, the witch hunting in Salem for a case… It reminded him a little of too much of Camelot.

It hit a nerve.

"How is he like?" Hermione asked, almost whispering. "Is he as great as they say?"

Merlin turned pink; he would like to say yes. But what he was doing right now wasn't that great, he was lying to her face. "I suppose." He answered truthfully. "He cares about people." Merlin added, feeling as real as possible. He did care about people, that was why…

Why it never got easier, lying to them all.

"He really does, I've read all that I could." She said excitedly. It wasn't every day that you met the family of the sage, as people called him. 'The Sage', 'The Wise', 'The great'. Those often went after his name, people often asked for his advice. More than once Morgana had joked he should start a advice column in The Prophet.

"Maybe one day you can meet him yourself." Hermione seemed to really appreciate the idea. Her smile widened, and she nodded, making her bushy hair skip up and down. Not that you have not met him already, he thought.

They went on slowly, all normal. Opening doors one after another talking about their lives, in Merlin's case lies, but one or two truths. He told her about Will, the state where he grew up, Ealdor.

They kept opening doors as they talked, and more than once they didn't realize there was an empty seat.

Merlin heard of her where she was born, about her Parents, 'just dentists 'she said, 'nothing magical about them'. Her father was an Odontologist and her mother a Prosthodontologist. And then she went on a rant about the difference between the two specialized dentistry. At the end, Merlin understood perfectly what her father did, but he still did not fully understand what her mom did. Too much technical words for him...

Even for the apprentice of Camelot's best physician.

There were specialized doctors in Mungos' who dealt with teeth. He was not surprised Muggles had them too, but they seemed to be really really specialized in their world.

Until she finally said. "You know Harry Potter should be here somewhere..."

He resisted the urge to smile. "Really?" He actually supposed some children to joke about it. To speak about Harry's worst day in his life as if it was a huge joke. But Hermione did not seem like that kind of person in anyway.

"According to my calculations." Hermione nodded, she was looking at the floor. "Shouldn't you go and look for him?"

Merlin lifted his eyebrow. "Why?" That was Morgana's job. She had to, erm, flirt a little with Harry; for a lack of better word, so that he liked her enough to be friendly to a girl. Not that it did not sound weird to Merlin; Harry was just eleven after all.

Hermione looked at him scrutingly, she seemed surprised and curious.

"Politics?"

He snorted. "Hermione, I am not the Malfoys. I don't always look for the first page of the Prophet." However the goddess knew that sometimes he did made it... But mostly he was on the fourth or five. He got into Radio too. Not live, but he did. "Now, where on Earth is that coming from?" Merlin asked. Was that the image he gave to her? That of a fame seeking boy? He was not Draco.

Hermione seemed even more confused. "But... The Ambrose family?"

Merlin shook his head. "Are not fame seekers, my mother certainly wasn't."

"Your mother?"

Merlin smiled. "Hunith Ambrose."

Morgana had once taken that identity for a while... They had not killed her off yet, but now it had become necessary... So they did. He was quite fond of the name, her identity. They had killed the woman's identity just one week ago… He just hoped that would not come with unwanted attention.

Merlin liked the name Ambrose, it had the same literal meaning the name Emrys did. But Emrys drew much attention so... In anyway, it was his favorite family… Building up a number of identities required a family background. But there was the Uralt family, the Vincere family, the Hemera and some many others; he had, of course, begun early.

"I've never heard of her..." Hermione whispered. More surprised than any thing else.

"Yes?" Merlin added. "That's the point." As Morgana had used that identity in Beauxbatons… They had both gone to different schools, anyhow. All around the world, he had for example gone to Walcott academy in Salem once. As Auditore Vincere, an Italian identity of his…

"So who was your father?" She asked, he put a half-realistic face. One of pain. Hermione blinked.

"I am sorry… I…" She mumbled.

Merlin shook his head. It was a long time ago. "No. It's okay. John Ellis." He answered. "A muggle. A small businessman." But as he said he thought of Balinor and Gaius, the only fatherly relations Merlin ever had. They both had taught him so much, even when he had known Balinor for so little time.

"So you ARE related to Ol'Ambrose?" Hermione asked.

Merlin nodded, "He is my great great great somewhat." He nodded.

Hermione grinned, nodding. "That must be hard." She said, he looked up at her. "Everyone expecting much of you?" She clarified. Merlin nodded at her, she was smart and insightful. A difficult combination to find the last few centuries…

"True, and I won't disappoint." Merlin answered.

"I might." She said. Feeling queasy as far as he could feel, nervous, too. He tried to avoid using his mind's eye in Hogwarts; children had a hard time with their emotions after all. They felt angry almost everything. They felt fear when they forgot to do any work for a class. And they felt great nervously when at tests.

He often tried to keep that out, but sometimes the emotions fell too strong. It was terrible when adolescents broke up or fought. The emotional turmoil often got into the Warlock. Made him grumpy, at best.

Merlin shook his head. "Muggleborns are as good as any wizards or witches, Hermione. You will do fine. Better, as you are smarter than them." She blushed.

"Thanks Martin." She seemed eager to change the topic. "Do you know about our class subjects?"

He spent a bit of time explaining about magic, and Hogwarts. She liked Transfiguration and Charms mostly. Merlin knew she would be one of the top witches of her generation. Her insight into magic was greater than those of her age. Those of adult age as well, it remind him of himself; the ability to understand magic as she did. As he always did.

Maybe this year would prove to be the best yet.

* * *

 **A'N. If you spot an error let me know. If you have enough time, please Review. And let me know what you think.**


	5. The things that we leave behind - 685

**Hey people!**

 **This is a new chapter, but the last four have been reforged, remade, and sublimated. I hope you enjoy the new five chapters… Do Review!**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: The things we leave behind.**

* * *

 **Year 685, August.**

* * *

The Castle was silent. But not entirely, there was the unmistakable sound of a deserted ancient citadel. The hitting of notches, tools banging with one another, a dog barking, a cat climbing the empty halls. And the creaking and howling of the wind, a creepy sound, if all.

Her hair moved on it, that summer breeze that once had signified spring and life, and that now, smelled like rotten. Dead.

Her lips curled, it seemed as if the very spring was now deceased.

Her eyes brushed through the courtyard, as fine strokes on a painting, it may be perhaps the last time she saw the castle. Her former home. Camelot may have been the epitome of all that she hated, but still she could not bring herself to destroy it.

Much had changed. Yet, not enough, for magic was no longer prosecuted, but it still was frowned upon. Far from the ideal she had strived for, what would Morgause say could she see her sister now?

It would be so easy now, to break the defense, to have Lot make the dirty job, and then to take his life, his army, his throne and her city. She could use the army as a destraction; and then she, herself would deal with the mighty Emrys. Everything would be hers.

Morgana shivered, how could she? How could she do that to herself? To get involve again? Letting the darkness take ahold of her, yet again? Better dead than under its power again, right? Better dead than a slave.

She edged dramatically onto the railing, and she knew what she was seeing: The familiar arches and halls, the grass and the gardens. The great gates, the hollow towers… the towers she and Arthur had run up, looking in their boredom for that fun and mischief teenagers all but need.

How long will they last… she wondered, when the siege ended would they still stand? Would Merlin and she?

Her hand absentmindedly grasped a tiny piece of rock from the railing; she pulled it up to her eyes and examined it. She would not be surprised if in the end that is all that remained of Camelot.

Nothing lasts forever, after all. She whispered to herself.

And Merlin and she would they? How long would they survive? Millennia? Two? Three? Would they wait so long, that the world would become unrecognizable?

The wind hit her again strongly on the face, and as she looked away she saw him.

A man on a horse, inspecting the gate. Lot had arrived, she decided. Finally, she could not wait much longer more… She yearned for something to do…

Her hand went to the arrow nearby, she lifted it. Feeling the soft feather and the wood. She pulled it up close.

"You need a bow?" A voice asked, she turned violently lifting the youth up and pushing him not so gently to the wall. She almost let out a sigh.

Her eyes narrowed at Llacheou, who gulped, and she let the prince down slowly. Merlin would not like her very much if anything happened to the boy; it was not like she cared. Not at all, he was the last of the Pendragon wretched line.

"Never sneak up on me." She growled, eyes narrowed. Llacheou looked at her in half fear and curiousity. He knew the power the witch supposedly possessed. He had heard of it, whispered, in both hate and fear.

The elders spoke of Morgana; Le Fay they called her, two French words... Le Fay was mocking, an insulting title that they gave her. They also changed her name to Morgan. Somehow that was meant to insult her, but she did not mind. She would outlive that name.

She was wasting time in thought, Lot's spy could not escape.

She hurried to the edge of the balcony, to see the rider in the distance. Probably on his way to report to his King. She looked at the arrow smugly; a normal bow would not do it anyway. It did not matter with the bow or otherwise, the scout would never reach Lot.

She would not allow it.

"Sorry, Lot." Morgana whispered. With a golden flash in her eyes she lifted the arrow into the air. The prince backed off looking nervously at the arrow's point; magic, he did not understand. Part of him feared its capacities. " ** _Ærne þaes windbland ond átæsan hine_** " (1) She commanded.

He feared how destructive it could become; he saw good in magic with Merlin. But in Morgana… He saw a lioness, beautiful and graceful, but terribly dangerous too. How could her magic be good?

The arrow was sent forth with a mighty blast, the youth ran at the balcony and with his knight-trained eyes managed to see it in the air, it turned around in a way no arrow could and with strength no bow could provide sailing in the air, turning; following the target, and then the arrow with great power, hit Lot's scout in the neck.

The scout lifted into the air, several feet he was thrown back. As if he was hit with a cannon instead of a simple arrow.

The rider's horse, much more attuned to the land; fled away from the powerful magic it sensed, leaving the rider behind, as the man fell, breaking almost all the bones on his body, he did not feel it, though; he was not alive when they broke.

Morgana smiled a predatory grin, before taking another arrow and placing it on the table, preparing for a next prey; posteriorly, turning back to looking nostalgically at the town. Her mind lost in thought

Llacheou trailed the progress of the projectile to his aunt, again and again; mortified by the sheer power the priestess possessed. Nothing that he expected in anyway, her power was raw and dangerous.

Morgana seemed to realize he was still there; she slowly flinched, turning back slowly.

She regarded him with a bored and half amused expression.

The crown prince had heard of Morgana, and her beauty which was said to leave the most focused knight tongue-tied. And it was one of those rare moments in which reality seemed to surpass any imagination. The magic seemed to have enhanced her features.

Her lips curled into yet another smiled. "Do you fear me, princeling?" The smile was mocking, a grin she was actually known of. A smirk that had actually been directed to his father, many times over. Not that the prince would know so.

Llacheou just looked, angrily. Not forgetting this woman had killed him… "No. I am but wary of your power. But Merlin will stop you should you try anything." The prince declared. Morgana narrowed her eyes at him, was that a challenge? He should know who she was?

"Why have you come?" She asked, glaring at him. "You are here to taunt me?" Llacheou grabbed the hilt with his left hand. Feeling the threat in her hiss.

"What have you done that warrants my people's trust?" He demanded, pulling a bit of the weapon out. Morgana glanced at the silvery metal gleam.

"Trust?" She laughed. A gleam of that depredatorian smirk again on her face. "Do not talk to me about trust!" She snorted and then scowled "How can I trust YOU?" She growled, and if Llacheou had been looking he would have seen some of the panels in the floor slowly crack. "Will you not burn me in the stake when Lot is defeated?"

Llacheou growled, taking more of the blade out. "It would be justice. You killed many, including my father."

"He and your psychotic grandfather killed many more!" She defended. Shrieking. "How many fathers, mothers, wives, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters did he murder?" Morgana asked, voice tainted with fury and sarcasm. "Pendragons are stains on the Earth! You are selfish and cruel, murdering without mercy or control; treating people as if they were a disease!" The priestess could barely hold the wrath from affecting her magic

And only to honor Gwen and Merlin she stayed her hand. Neither of them would forgive Morgana should she kill their last 'son.' Perhaps, Merlin would say he did not, but Morgana knew better, Merlin saw Llacheou and Loholt as his children too.

Her powers seemed to pour onto the sky, where the sunset disappeared in Camelot when big storm clouds covered the land. Llacheou glanced nervously out the window as the sky darkened, as the ground and the forest seen from the castle turned black and shadowy.

"What about all you did?" Llacheou said, looking at Morgana as his late father once did

"Do you presume to judge me?!" She roared turning at him with a small tint of gold on her green-gray eyes. "You were not there! Have you ever smelled the burning flesh of a family? Have you?!" Morgana roared, obvious anger and disgust on her features.

18 years had gone by and still the smell of Uther's victims still haunted her senses, even away from sleep.

Now that the war was over and she slept again, her dreams were plagued with guilt, pain and executions. Merlin had promised to help her, but he was busy and she had no idea of how to stop it.

Meanwhile in the prince's own mind, he tried to ignore the picture in it; that of several men, women and children tied by chains on the stake, their flesh peeling off. He looked at the priestess, glaring. "No!" He growled. "Things have changed in Camelot, but have you?!"

She clenched her fist, pressing her nails into the back of her hand. "I fight to defend those who would condemn me! My enemies! " Morgana said an almost animal fury in her eyes. "Would you do it? Would you fight for the Druids?"

Llacheou opened his mouth wishing he could simply say Yes. But no sound left his lips; he feared magic, because he read about it.

The prince knew about the darkest kind of magic, he had read about Necromancy, on the banned books; and the mere concept terrified him.

"No, of course not." Morgana angered, "You are Arthur's son. Uther's heir." She bit her lip, in fury. "Go back to your people." She ordered, looking back at the courtyard again. "You are no better than any of them." It was true, no common man would fight for their enemies, even in no aggression.

But Morgana was no common woman. She would evolve. She would leave them all behind.

* * *

Rosemary, the taste of its smell lingered on the air. The smell of Rosemary hid all others. It was so familiar, Merlin inhaled loudly, he was home.

The warlock cleaned the dust off the book in the table. He could not help feeling chills encase his body as he stared at the familiar cover. He turned and looked at the bookcase.

As he walked besides it, he stretched and felt the books with his fingers; he looked around walking through the room, feeling the heavy covers. There was one that caught his eye, so he pulled it out. This one seemed new.

He had never seen it before. Merlin gazed at the cover of fine leather and read out of it.

A physician's Legacy; it said. He opened it slowly and gasped when he saw Gaius' handsomely untidy tiny handwriting. The old man had been busy. Merlin stared adoringly at the hand made drawings and trailed them with his hand.

He passed through title to title; Affanc disease. Healing small cuts. Viper venom. Finding the Mortaeus Flower. Healing Magical burns. Serkets and their sting.

It did not matter, Lot had not arrived yet. He had time to spare…

He sat at the chair and read, the whole book seemed to speak of magic, healing and healing with Magic. And Merlin looked on and on, smiling as he saw the drawings made by an obviously steady hand.

The book was long and he took hours in barely looking it. He had hours, not weeks, he could not truly read it all.

The book smelled strongly. It smelled of Gaius and fresh ink, it was obvious that the Old Wizard was choosing to leave knowledge, and he was doing so in a more lasting quality than mere words.

And as Merlin smiled he put the last page through, there was much he could learn out of this book, later on.

He grinned ever strongly as he looked at the table and he closed Gaius' legacy. He grimaced when the tank of leeches came into view.

How many times had he cleaned it? The worst smell in the world, as it turned out.

It also seemed Gaius had a new helper, it seemed, as it now lay somewhat clean. Merlin, himself, was adamant however, he would have done a better job himself.

He smiled, a sad wistful little grin. Merlin stared at the book, and saw a small note on the back of the last page, he had just read. For Merlin.

Merlin's throat ached and he felt his eyes fill with unshed tears.

"Merlin?" A voice said, a familiar one. The warlock felt a powerful spasm of overfilling grief and happiness. As he stared at the wizard in front of him, Merlin felt more relaxed and at ease that he had been in years.

He could feel Gaius' magic in the physician's aura, and he felt it soft, steady and helpful. Goodness and some grief lay with Gaius right then.

Merlin was overwhelmed by sadness, he looked and saw more. Gaius had always been somewhat old. But now? The man held himself with a walking stick, he was hunched and it barely helped him; he had aged twenty years instead of four since the Warlock had last saw him.

His hair, usually white, was now going balding; silver strands that ended on an empty batch. The physician had also a number of wrinkles, and they all ended or began on the eyes and mouth.

But he was recognizable, too. Gaius had but one feature which had not changed. The greyish-blue eyes. Full of knowledge, wisdom, mercy, love…

…So full of Gaius, Merlin thought.

"Merlin?" The physician coughed, looking up at the tall man with black-hair and long facial hair. He could recognize Merlin in the noble-dressed man in front of him, but he also saw Dragoon.

"Gaius." The immortal whispered, touched in the heart by barely looking at the Wizard. "Oh, Gaius!" He ran to the old man and pulled him into a hug. The old man chuckled.

"Merlin, you have grown." The older man mumbled.

The sorcerer shook his head, stopping a stray tear, with the back of his hand. "It would seem that way, but it is not the case." He said. The old man's eyes softened, "Oh my boy, I wished I could spare you the pain."

"You knew?" Merlin mumbled, eyes wide; he had just realize the meaning of the man's words. He tried not to sound accusative… It was not the Physician to be blamed. Right?

"I wanted to protect you." Gaius answered, limping into the chair. In which Merlin help him sit. "You should have grown happy and somewhat unaware of this future…"

"Why did you not tell me?" Merlin asked.

"This future, it was your right not to know about it." He said, sadness on his eyes. "It was your right. I owed you that."

Merlin shook his head. "No Gaius, you do not owe me anything… I owe you everything." Gaius shook his head back, and Merlin hugged him. They clinged to one another, and Merlin felt guilt.

He now knew for Gwen, Llacheou, Loholt and Gaius. That he should have been here, all this time. "You said future…" Merlin mumbled, whispering to his guardian's ear. "What future, Gaius?"

Gaius sighed, looking even older, tired.

"A long and sad one for you, my boy." The old man said. "One you cannot escape from, I am afraid." He continued, looking a tad depressed. "One you cannot leave behind."

But Merlin, would try. He would try to leave most sadness behind.

* * *

Morgana smiled. "Where were you?" She whispered. Merlin stared at her, his shoulder lifted up in surrender, he looked like a noble, wearing fine robes, unlike his Emrys ones.

He also seemed to be using some sort of magical disguise, but it was not potion made, so the priestess saw right through that. Unless it was a potion, it practically had no effect on her, at all.

And Merlin had not used a potion for a decade or a bit more. Not since he began needing to turn into Emrys once and again every day.

"With Gaius." He answered. Walking to look through the balcony, standing next to her. So, the old physician was still alive? She would not know anyway, it was not like Merlin and she talked about Camelot. In fact, they rarely talked at all. Merlin looked at her. "He sends his greetings."

Of anything. Their conversations consisted mostly of 'Breakfast is done.', 'I am off.', 'I never asked the goddess to be punished with your presence!' & 'Hello, Bye.' They never did discuss anything, and when they did, they always ended up rebuilding the manor.

She flinched, staring at him. "You… told him of me?" Her slightly fake smile, fluttered of his mouth.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Yes. But he would have found out anyway." He pointed out.

Morgana breathed loudly. Not knowing exactly why it upsetted her. "Still." The priestess hissed. "You could have asked me." The whole lot of the Camelotians knew about her, it was only logical that Gaius would then know as well.

She felt nothing for the old man, but he knowing her presence was there annoyed her terribly. And she was also afraid, Gaius had dealt with Morgause. Broken her… She doubted how powerful he was…

"Are you going to make a big deal out of this?" He snorted. Looking at her in a very bored and annoyed glance. That infuriated her even more, these things were not his to tell.

"I dunno. Should I?" She asked sarcastically. Both of them were feeling each other's annoyance. It edged her on, after all, he had no right to be annoyed.

It was he who had been divulging HER secrets. Not that they had much secrecy to begin with. "I would say no." Merlin groaned angrily. "But you would never listen, anyhow."

Her eyes narrowed. "Do not start with me EMRYS!"

His narrowed right back. "I am not starting anything, LE FAY!"

Morgana growled, animalistic-like and pulled him by the robe, pulling it up in threat. How dare he use THAT title? Merlin should have known better than to antagonize her. As Morgana had begun thinking some spells she was sure Morgause would approve.

"Woah!" A voice muttered Morgana felt wild annoyance, if it was Llacheou again; she would turn the brat into a bug whether Merlin was there or not, whether he was in agreement or not. She turned back to glare at the boy, but it was not the prince anyway. "What is going on?" Gwen demanded, pulling them off each other.

Subsequently the Queen crossed her arms, looking at them both as a mother did when the child was petulant. She did that quite often with Llacheou, but she had done it even more so with Loholt.

Merlin knew all of that very well. He had been there, he had come back to tutor them, he disagreed about it with Gwen then. And he did it still.

Llacheou and Loholt had deserved a real tutor; they had needed one with experience. But Gwen had insisted that she wanted Merlin.

You know enough. She had said then. You must teach my sons wisdom, I will do the rest.

He had learned quite a bit, in his long life. But not enough Geography and Politics to be a royal tutor, he could not teach them what princes needed to know. But Gwen was unrelenting. So he came over soon enough…

And when he saw Arthur's twins, he could not help it, the boys had stolen his heart. It was not like Morgana would miss him, not at all. She would be very glad to be on her own, she liked her loneliness. Much more than she liked him, anyway.

So he had come to Camelot, and every three days he taught them, read to them, told them Llacheou and Loholt about Arthur, taught them all he knew, all he could.

Morgana had begged him, or rather ordered him; to keep her existence as a well-kept secret. So he had done it, for the first thirteen years of Gwen's boys, all those years he had been there; Morgana had been hidden.

So, just like that Merlin could basically know what Guinevere was thinking. And anyway, it would not be like Gwen could ground them anyway.

"You better watch what you say, Emrys." Morgana whispered, smiling at him with a sweet and fake smile. She then pushed him hard.

Gwen looked annoyed at them.

She seemed to understand their respective angers. "Merlin, perhaps, you would take a look at the defenses for me?" Merlin opened his mouth to protest. But seeing Guinevere's look he nodded and turned away to leave.

Morgana smiled triumphantly, before following him to the room. "Hey, Merlin?" She laughed as he turned violently to glare at her. Gwen sighed, knowing full well what was about to happened. "I win."

Merlin snorted and began yelling at her. Gwen cocked her head when Morgana yelled back. Shaking it promptly.

And turning the Queen left, ignoring the hateful remarks and obscenities. Smiling just gently with a thought on her head…

 _Like a married couple._

* * *

Guilt. Nothing was worse; Llacheou decided, Nothing ate you up whole as IT did. Nothing. He walked through the marketplace, trying not to be seen. Merlin would berate him to no end should he know.

He had known Merlin since before he could remember, when the Wizard came and began teaching them both. Nothing magical, even when Loholt seemed to possess some aptitude to it.

His own grandson, had Uther known would had been rolling on his grave. But Merlin kept his brother away from spells, incantations and even potions.

He taught them values and how to rule by their father's legacy. Any questions about Magic went unanswered, no matter how much his younger fool of a twin badgered their tutor.

Since he could remember, he and his brother had idolized their father. They had not known him, except for Merlin's stories and their mother's remarks. They had then begun making their own tales, their own fights and adventures.

And they played the off, too, between each other only. A secret for brothers alone.

They ran Gaius ragged asking questions about Arthur and Merlin, a dynamic duo, of a sort. The greatest warrior and the most powerful Sorcerer.

Arthur had been a hero, but Llacheou… He was no hero, he did not deserve the title of crown prince, he was a failure.

His father, legendary King Arthur, would be so disappointed in the end.

Llacheou felt like such a Hypocritical failure. He missed Loholt, badly, he missed his twin. Pathetic, isn't it? He thought. He may not have wielded his blade against him, but he all but killed Loholt.

As far as Llacheou was concerned, he deserved to be looked down. Such a mighty failure for a prince. "Llacheou?"

The prince looked back, staring at Guinevere. "Mother?" He asked, muttering, "Why are you here? The people-?" He cleaned the tears from his eyes, with the corner of his hand.

Gwen sighed, seating on a rock in front of a garden, chair and beckoned him to seat next to her. He cleaned the tears from his eyes, with the corner of his hand.

"I will not be their Queen much longer." She answered. Edging towards the teenager. "And now, my boy needs me more." He sat down, and she rubbed her son's cheek.

"Did I murderer my brother?" He whispered without thinking; her eyes widened. She seemed more shocked than angry or upset, knowing her that would come later.

"How can you say such things?" She demanded, pain in her voice.

He would not stop any more tears from falling, so he stared down, filling with regret and self-loathing, unwilling to meet her eyes. The Queen grasped his hand. "Mother, I am so sorry." She wondered what Arthur would have done… Had she failed him?

"You cannot blame yourself… Loholt had no right to take the throne, and lest the way he did." She grabbed his cheek.

"I killed him…" He gasped, blinking back tears. "I killed my brother."

"No. I did." She said. "I failed him." Her voice faltered, breaking at the end. But she seemed to compose fast enough, unwilling to crash down in front of her son. He for an instance

His lip quivered, so she edged forward pulling him into a hug when his first sob came. He melted into her, finally broken. She tried her best to calm her son, whispering calm into his right ear.

Sometimes she forgot that he was just a boy, Arthur's son, but barely more than a child anyhow. He had the right to show fragility, to need his mother.

But children did not survive war. They were left behind.

* * *

 **1\. Ærne þaes windbland ond átæsan hine. Translated as: Glide through the harsh wind and strike him.**

 **A'N. Done. Expect next chapter in a short while… Hope you enjoy it!**

 **There it is the adapted chapters have been posted, the new one is right here. I hope you stayed with me. As promised, I finished early so I posted them sooner. Expect the chapter soon. Though I have barely begun with it...**


	6. In the Hogwarts Express - 1991

**C** **hapter 6:**

 **In the Hogwarts Express**

* * *

 **Okay. Here is the next chapter, hope you enjoy it. Regarding what you are saying about chapters in the past: They will become necessary for you to understand certain moments when the story is not about Harry and Voldemort. Please trust I know what I am doing…**

* * *

 **Hogwarts Express, Border of Scotland. September 2th,1991.**

* * *

When Morgana sat next to the window, as Ron had 'relinquished' his seat to being next to Harry. He was obviously an awkward preteenager boy, it was obvious that he would rather seat next to a live lion than her. Right?

Morgana had been expecting that. She had been at school so long as to know how boys' minds worked.

What she did not expect was to slowly fall down looking at the forests. Her eyes narrowed slowly, looking at the shades of green in the foliage. The slow movement of the train did not help.

She loved the train, now. It moved slowly and the windows showed a beautiful landscape. Great Hills and lowlands as far as she could see.

She needed no sleep, really. She could go without any, with her energy sustained by her magic. But sometimes she could not help falling asleep.

When Helena had died, her pain had kept her awake for a few days. She could not help sleeping afterwards, her magic was strained in keeping her up; and with no food to make matters worse. Overall, she needed no food either.

She had not liked the Express at first, too. Had vociferously talked against the initiative; it was a Muggle creation, quite unsafe... If the tracks were to be destroyed... She would not go so far as to call it unsanitary as some wizards had, Muggles were quite clean; but using it would have been tempting fate.

Merlin however had liked it quite much. He said, the train had a steady movement and fascinating workings. He had paid for it himself, or at least most of it. And had spoken favorably about the machine.

Funnily enough, many wizards, who had spoken against; had began rooting for the change when Myredero Ambrose began upholding the Minister's idea. Why, Merlin had been greatly smug that afternoon…

She yawned for one last time, and fell asleep face staring at the window. Her eyes fell and her hand stopped her head from doing the same. But to her. That was not exactly the case...

She suddenly fell much awake, her eyes drifted to the seat looking for the children. But the seats were empty. Where had they gone?

For a minute or so, she had wondered... Had she fallen asleep for too long? Had neither Harry or Ron the decency to wake the priestess up? Had she missed Hogwarts' stop?

What a Chosen One... She thought sarcastically. She blinked at the window. Noticing scratch markings slowly appearing in the middle. Against her better judgement she edged closer to the window.

It shredded itself, breaking up, with a characteristical noise. Pieces of metal and glass fell to the floor, and the latter broke too. Morgana screamed and jumped back to the door, hitting it with her back. She saw the crack of the window expand bigger and bigger until it swallowed the seats. She turned and tried in vain to open the windowed door.

Not only it didn't budge, but there was no carpeted floor behind the glass, there was just an empty space looking right at the tracks. What on Earth is going on? She thought, turning away, the window was now an arm length to swallowing her too.

A thought assaulted her mind. Quite unsafe, wasn't it?

She turned back and yelped when she saw a bony hand turning the handle.

"He is not here!" A voice said. She turned around and saw the full moon appear on top of the forest. The door opened with a crash and Morgana, without thinking twice, she jumped through.

To an enormous cliff below. The sea crashed in waves to the rocks, and before she reached the water, she saw a small house on the cliff..

* * *

Merlin stared through the window in a amused sort of way. He had passed through the very same woods thousands of times. He knew that it was with Arthur once. Who knew? Perhaps just right there a thousand and a half years ago; he and the prince sat.

But then the forest had been cropped down by muggles and wizards alike. He may just be several kilometers out of mark relating to Camelot and the Britain of his youth.

"You know Ambrose." The boy drawled and Merlin huffed an annoying sigh. "If you were as smart as you want all of us to think you would not have made a scene in the station." The boy had a hand on a candy, a very expensive magical brand from London.

Merlin groaned. Crabbe and Goyle nodded, looking at each other. Merlin was ashamed to say he had actually bought from that ridiculous pricey café, the orange cake was just too good to ignore. Morgana however had a huge stash of desserts. Which The Warlock never dared to touch.

"They can think?" Merlin asked, sarcastically. This time the insult was not thin veiled enough for the huge boys to ignore. Crabbe growled and Goyle stood up going towards the Warlock.

Merlin narrowed his eyes, feeling both annoyed and exhausted. Should the two try anything they would, so definitely, fly through the window. And the goddess damn the repercussions of killing his classmates.

"Do not be stupid Goyle!" Draco barked. "You do anything to him and Myredero Ambrose will get your father fired!" Goyle sat down reluctantly, still glaring daggers at the Immortal.

Of course, he would. Merlin would use all the political power he had attained over the years to get the ministry to dismiss Mr. Goyle.

Being a major donator on the Ministries of Magic around the world, he doubted any of them would ignore him. They couldn't afford it.

Latin American Ministries depended on him real bad. And African ones would fail if it was not for his intervention. Merlin truly wished he could do more, but even he was not powerful enough to dismantle the system.

He just turned away back to the window, he hoped the attendant selling food arrived soon. He was really starving.

* * *

Morgana had three types of visions, those that showed the future and those that showed the past, but also there were those that made no bloody sense at all. This dream was shaping to be one of the last. And those were the worse kind.

She hit the water with so much force that she lost her breath, it pummeled her head and she felt the freezing cold as the steady liquid hit her, as she swam up, she saw a dragon reflected in the lake. But looking up she saw nothing.

Not the train or the dragon, the sky was red, but the water was black already, black and real cold. She swam to the shore, and as she climbed out she saw a formed marble piece on the middle of a tiny island in a bigger lake.

She breathed loudly, the water was so cold... So, cold. That it hurt her to breathe. And it was summer…

She scolded herself; the old Morgana had been stabbed, poisoned, betrayed and forced to live without eating properly. That she would now suffer so much because of being wet, regardless of how cold it was...

This was real, whatever it was... She did not just see it, she was feeling it. And she did not like it. Not at all.

She turned towards the left, she knew this place. An enormous and majestic castle stood alone... The hundreds of windows shone with interior light. She knew the number by heart: 7373 windows. And there were in all 15097 stair steps. She had after all designed the bloody place. (1)

Hogwarts? How did she? But then thunder flashed and Hogwarts crashed, breaking as if in slow motion. She gasped, running towards the castle, thinking only of saving her home and all the survivors. If there were any.

But then there was no castle when she finally got there, the pieces of it had edged on the ground, hard rock standing out the grass. Eerily she shuffled around, the remains had formed a cementery? Fitting, perhaps.

If she had stopped and think she would have realized that she was dry and that she could not look back. No matter how much she would try.

And then she felt watched, there was someone looking at her from a broken house at the end of the row... The world had changed once again.

Godric's Hollow? Was she dreaming? Was it a nightmare or something else? She had not seen anything in such a long time... Her thoughts had even wandered if she had lost her power. She had wished it was the case, being a seer was such a burden.

She could force visions using crystals and such, but dreams like those she had when she was a ward had not hit her in half a millennia.

And Godric's boyhood house, she had not visited since James and Lily had died. That 31st had been the last time Morgana had been there. Never again. Oh, she had done it before, Gryffindor land was a famous place.

She made special efforts to avoid those places that held only pain, and having arrived to late to save them both had caused her great pain indeed. She had tried, but the Fidelius Charm was old magic and she was not a secret keeper. She could not get in. Not until it was too late.

If this was anything but a vision then her powers seemed not to have gone. They seemed to be getting stronger, if anything... She had never felt her visions, only seen them. Like a movie on that tridimensional system she had recently seen, or those plays, of those Merlin really enjoyed.

Posteriorly she was a true and powerful seer. So she read tea leaves, predicted using the stars, use crystals; even crystals not from THE cave... They were not so strong as those taken from that place, but it also made her sad, so; she also felt some little things.

When she had been a Muggle, she would say 'phone'... And it would ring. Or 'Come in.' And someone was about to knock the door.

It was instinctive. And it drove Merlin crazy. There was a surprise birthday party fiasco, which Merlin had planned for her, with astonishing detail but Morgana had seen coming. But she had misunderstood the thing, people sneaking on her and jumping out, could have been anything; so she had enchanted the room to defend herself.

The resulting magic had nearly killed everyone inside, and Merlin had not been pleased. From that time and on Merlin's parties were announced to her with years of anticipation. And no more surprises for her, anyway, too bad; as she liked surprises as much as the next bystander.

She edged towards that building where Lily and James had lived in. She had been there when the grass was green, the hedge trimmed and it was done. In fact, to add insult to injury, she had been Lily's maid of honor.

She loved Lily Evans. And she had liked James Potter well enough.

They both had died in there. The house was just like she remembered it, resounding with Dark Magic, broken and dusty. She felt acute pain, why had she allowed it to happen. Lily had been her one true friend in a very long time.

Her hand grabbed the old house, and then it was not a house but a tower. Dark and Imposing, it was old and she knew it well. The Dark Forest, the same as the Forbidden one, in Hogwarts. Just much deeper.

Nobody would ever found it. Ever.

Merlin and her had made some efforts to keep anyone away from it. Illusions... Traps... The warlock and the witch had made shields to keep the evil in. And the humans out. The tower could not be seen and to enter, one had to go right through a mountain wall.

Back in the time they had even considered destroying the old tower. But something stopped them both, it was unique but no entirely odd or difficult for them to feel the same instinctual message from the Old Religion.

So they decided against it.

She would go in and cast purifying spells on it. And Merlin would re-do the shields, the repelling and the illusions.

Perhaps it was due now. They had done it every hundred years or so, and the time was not there yet, but she would convince Merlin, it had to be done.

But the tower seemed not so old anymore, it seemed quite new. As she saw it, the chiseling was new, or at least remade. As Morgana scratched it with her hand someone hissed, and as she turned she found herself in the air, high into a sky full with black thunder clouds. And then she was screaming, as she fell, and as she woke up, the scream became gasping and shrill.

The red eyes haunting her...

* * *

Merlin blinked away, there was something wrong.

Morgana was not there. She had suddenly and virtually disappeared, he tried to focus on her again but she was missing still. Startled, he jumped up, leaving to find her. Whatever had happened between them, there was a powerful sense of loyalty.

"Ambrose!" Malfoy screamed after him. "Where are you going? Ambrose!" But Merlin ignored him. Whatever he had felt in the Old Religion, he hated the boy. Spoiled Brat.

He saw Hermione on the way, and she caught up to him. "Martin, are you alright? You look pale..." She asked. Merlin nodded. She had changed to her Hogwarts uniform before anyone else, including prefects, but he could not judge her. She was obviously excited.

"Yeah, fine. I do not like train travel much." He lied. But it was not exactly a lie, he had been a slightly dizzy the first time around, and the second, and the third, and the next... The train was fascinating and all, but seeing it work had not the same as being on it while it did.

So after avoiding it for quite a long while, he had chosen to support Ottaline Gambol's attempt. He really could not say 'no'. When she had sought his help herself, and all but begged him for support.

"But they are amazing. You know that the Hogwarts Express was adapted in 1827, it was the greatest gamble of a ministry of magic in the time." Hermione said. Almost as if quoting a book, perhaps she read more than him.

"Yeah, I know." Merlin grinned, for a moment forgetting about Morgana's disappearance. "My family was a major donator for it's doing. We did it so, because we thought that it would reduce Pure-Blood Resistance to the idea." Hermione's eyes widened. Merlin knew that that was not in any book; perhaps he could teach her a lot of interesting things she would like. And perhaps even she could teach him too.

Hermione seemed even more surprised than before. "So you know how many innovations has it gone through?"

"Three if I remember correctly…"

"Seven, with the ones made to prepare it." She corrected. Looking a bit smug.

Merlin smiled. "Well you see… There you go." He laughed. "I did not know everything. But Myredero, could give you a run for your money." He had never counted those made to prepare it, truly they had been four just as she had said. Heck, he had paid for them.

Hermione beamed. "So I can meet him?" Her eyes were filled with excitement and awe.

"I would say yes, perhaps I will invite you to Ambrose Manor." said Merlin. "I reckon he would not mind." And then he did not mind even a little bit. He would enjoy having her there.

Only there was the insignificant problem of how to introduce her to himself. Maybe he would figure that detail out eventually, and even throw a party.

The girl just stared with a dreamy smile. "Great." Merlin chuckled, she seemed really excited. He should re-read his diary, and some history books. You know… to prepare.

She saw a boy in the end of the line and gasped. Martin turned around, "Martin, I gotta go. I was helping Neville here to find his toad. " The boy was a bit lumpy, brown haired and brown eyed. He seemed to have been crying, or something.

Neville swallowed. "His name's Trevor." He said with more than one obvious amount of shyness.

Hermione Granger stared at the boy, whatever the name was, the toad was no dog and would never listen, as they had no ears… But she seemed to avoid saying it, and just looked annoyed. "Alright. Martin if you see a toad…"

He promised he would call them if he did. Hermione walked to the next stall. And he just walked on ahead, until he saw Harry and Ron, they were talking, of something with fast childish urgency. And Morgana laid in front, sleeping with a frown. He sighed out in relief.

Now that she was there he could indeed feel her. But in an almost absent way, or at least her magic was. Merlin knew exactly what it meant. But sadly there was very little he could do...

Morgana's visions did not occur as often, but other seer related powers did. She was growing in strength of magic. And when visions came, her premonitions were much, much worse that they had been in Camelot. Her powers had grown.

As had his. Consequences, Merlin supposed, consequences of their very long life.

Every fifty years or so, their powers grew in might. His Dragonlord trait had evolved too, first in Parsel-tongue and then in what he called Lizard-Speech. Now he felt like soon enough he would end speaking Lion or something.

Perhaps in a thousand years he would be able to talk to every animal existing. That would be interesting, he could get cats to follow Morgana, as she was allergic. Payback. It would be fun.

Their connection to animals grew too. At first animals just walked close to them, and eventually they began bowing. Normal animals first, next, Magical.

Which had been sad too. Dragons, Unicorns, every powerful portent of the old religion had began to lessen. Becoming weaker, lesser that they had been. As they grew, the other portents fell.

Dragons were the worse, he could no longer speak to them as equals, they would heed his orders but they would never give advice like Kilgharrah did.

Unicorns had become less pure, Trolls bigger and more stupid, the Questing Beasts were now truly extinct (not that that was seriously a bad thing ), and Serkets had not been seen in a thousand years (again, no complains!). And some spells had been lost entirely to the world.

Merlin had not heard of the Great Dragon, he had just gone, the goddess knew where, to do she knows what...

The Warlock knew that he was alive somewhere, and that he would come back when the time came. Merlin knew that should he die, he would feel it in the air. Or he hoped that was the case.

He never did call the Dragon back, he supposed Kilgharrah would show up when the time was right. And Merlin was willing to wait forever should it be necessary, he just hoped he would not have to.

And he did not feel like opening those scars just yet.

* * *

When Morgana had woken, with a shrill cut off scream she had expected the boys to notice it. But, to her surprise, they didn't, so busy they had been on their talks...

She looked out the door, and sighed in relief when she SAW the carpeted floor. And unsurprisingly Merlin out there, too. He probably had felt her vision happening and come to check up on her. So sweet.

'Are you alright, Gana'? ' He asked her in her mind. Aware that Harry and Ron were watching she looked away from the door.

'Worried about me, Emrys?' She teased. He frowned, looking annoyed. 'Relax, Merlin. I am fine.' Years of Visions had made her more capable of letting them go. Too bad she did not have her diadem anymore, as it made her power grow.

It was not that she was so smart, but her knowledge was great. And priestess were meant to follow that.

He let out a mental sigh. 'Was it bad?'

'Awful' She growled. 'But let's talk later, shall we?' Merlin nodded and took off. Obviously feeling her distress and annoyance.

"Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect - famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy." Ron was saying. Harry was unwrapping the chocolate frog's card, Morgana raised her head to stare.

She could not see the man or woman in the card, but Harry half-grinned.

"So this is Dumbledore!" Harry said, loudly. Morgana felt a spasm of pain, he had looked just like James as he said it.

She tried not to think of the Auror and his wife, her friends; or of her visions for that matter. Or any thing that brought pain and grief that she would never be able to control. And becoming angry or stressed out of it was a mistake, as far as she was concerned.

So, even when this vision she had just have made her very queasy, of the moment. She would ignore it. It was not the first time she had managed to change her visions, it would not be the last.

But now, tomorrow, a year or a hundred, they would all die. And she wouldn't. Merlin wouldn't. They were surrounded by so many people, but they were alone. No one would ever understand. No one would last enough to do it.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. He looked surprised, shocked but then he just bit his lip and asked. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa - thanks -"

Harry turned at her, and blushing, asked her if she would like one too. She smiled at him, and nodded, thanking him. She opened the wrap and took the chocolate in.

She loved Chocolate, it had not existed in her time. So when she had first taste it, she had truly enjoyed the sweetness. As she did still.

She turned the card back, she often ignored it, as Harry read his card, and blinked. Merlin would love this. The picture was that of a very old man, he had shining blue eyes and wore a blood-red long cloak. With a white hood in the background. His hair was silver, and long and he had a huge beard.

She was staring at Emrys.

Harry turned the card out as he finished reading and his eyes widened. "He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," Ron answered. "He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her... do you want it? You can start collecting."

Morgana blinked again as she saw the card and her picture. She did not look even remotely like that! Her hair was not brown, and she never wore it like that! And she never would have, what an awful style.

Well, it was brown now... And she had used it brown for a while, as she had used red, and blonde, and black. And once, even, silver.

"In, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos." Harry said. Morgana nodded; she would have to take Ron to the movies someday.

"Do they? What they don't move at all? That's weird!" Morgana giggled at Ron's amazement. For her moving and talking portraits that could think were weird. Thank the goddess that only magical people could be immortalize that way. She would hate if someone was to make one of Arthur's.

"Actually, Ron, Muggle pictures came first." Morgana grinned. "We wizards just copied them. Adding Magic to the mix." Ron blinked. She was doing her best not to burst out laughing, Merlin would love the card, really…

"Really?" The red head asked, looking shocked. The Weasley family were good folk, but they probably had been taught that Muggles had copied everything from Wizards.

Which mostly was the other way around.

"Yes." She laughed. "The first of them, only did repeating motions over and over again." Morgana shook her head. "Got boring, very soon." The very first time she had seen one, of Merlin; it nodded, bowed and winked; in that order.

She still would not let Merlin live that one down. When he talked to her, sometimes she would do it and he would get very annoyed. It was amusing.

"Who did you get?" Harry asked her. He seemed to be losing some shyness. Morgana had that effect on people mostly boys. They became inhibited in front of her.

Morgana laughed softly, before answering. "Myredero Ambrose."

* * *

Merlin did not know what to do. Anyway, he could help Neville Longbottom find his toad, alongside Hermione. Or return to Draco, in turn. Normally the choice would be hanging out with the good crowd. He hated bullies, he could not stand them.

But the Old Religion wanted something out of Draco, and he should find out what... Even if the Malfoy had been a pain in the backside. But had Arthur been any different after all? Both were proud, indifferent and believed the world belonged to them.

And Arthur could send Merlin to the stocks, Draco had no power over him. He had the upper hand this time. And then nobody would blame him if he turned Draco into a snail. But still he could do better…

So he shook his head, and drawing out his wand. Pointed at the hallway and mumbled. "Accio Toad." The creature swam in the air and he grabbed it, taking care not to hurt it. Too bad he could not talk toad yet. Whatever Lizard-Speech would help on.

He scratched, Trevor, was it?, in the head and whispered to it. "Should we find your owner now?"

And after that, Draco. Right? That would be fun. He muttered a couple of hexes to use on Crabbe and Goyle. Maybe he could turn their bodies into chocolate and the problem would take care of itself... He chuckled, now that was an idea! But still he could not do the same with the little Malfoy Dragon.

* * *

Ron gasped and jumped next to her. "I knew they would make one for him! I knew it!" The fact that it was silver only made it better. Of course they would eventually, Morgana thought, it was a wonder he did not have one.

Harry Potter looked at the back from his seat, and asked, "Can I read it?" He seemed most interested in the cards. Muggleborns often did. The term had had it's first using in 899, Merlin and herself had been shocked, to hear it. And in 923 it was the official term.

Now the term was insulting in the true meaning.

Anyhow, Harry had been raised a muggle himself. Morgana hoped that it would be a good insensitive for Wizards to be nicer to Nomaj as they called them in America.

"Sure." said Morgana and she passed it to him.

"Read it aloud, Harry." Said Ron. The black haired boy nodded and cleared his throat.

MYREDERO AMBROSE BURGUN

VOTED MOST MYSTERIOUS WIZARD ALIVE

Myredero's mistery begins with his age, born September 2, 1591; he is 400 years as of this year. Myredero's been around plenty, and he is a famous Historian, Magic Theorist and Politician. He is now known by his masterful defeat of Cain Gruasame, arguably the most deadly of You - Know - Who's disciples never caught. Myredero, now believed to be one of the most powerful Wizards alive; was voted Most Mysterious Wizard by The Prophet's readers in September 2, 1991, his birthday.

Ron was nodding. "Yeah, dad talked about it. Apparently this guy had managed to disappear without going through trial. Very few managed that."

"So he was very powerful?" Morgana asked. Wandering just how much attention had Merlin drawn to himself

"'A known dangerous duelist.' Dad had said." Ron almost whispered. Harry stared at the picture. "And Ambrose defeated him easily." The awe on his voice obvious.

Morgana knew how much in awe was the wizarding World to the Ambrose family. She had a feeling that deep, very deep inside they knew who Myredero was.

And she hoped eventually, they would know for real. She had wanted to reveal herself, she had gone through enough, acting, dressing and lying. It had lost its magic, pardon the pun.

Harry's eyes widened at the picture, the aged wizard grinned, and he gasped. "I know him!" He croaked. "I sat next to him on Gringotts' cart. And I saw him fight a Wizard in Diagon Alley!"

Ron's eyes widened. "Bloody Brilliant!" Morgana smiled. Merlin what have you done? And then they were all grabbing another Frog.

* * *

 **A'N**

 **Invented numbers. Nothing official, should you find a canonical source saying otherwise, I will gladly change it. Hope you like it. Review!**


	7. Arrival at Hogwarts - 1991

**Chapter 6:**

 **Arrival at Hogwarts**

* * *

 **New Chapter. Hope you do like it. I am so sorry over lateness, I had an awful time and could in truth, find no time to work on this…**

 **Oh and by the way, do you guys agree I can double task on a Game of Thrones fic? Vote to help me decide…**

 **Hogwarts Express, a few hours from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.**

* * *

 **September 2th, 1991. 15:49 hours.**

When Merlin opened the door, he expected to see Draco Lucius Malfoy, sneering at him and giving his, very unwanted – opinion; over anything really. But no, the sits were empty, no Draco, or Crabbe and Goyle.

Merlin groaned. Turning back on his steps, he did not need the Old Religion to know where Draco had gone to.

Hermione's voice came to his mind. 'You know Harry Potter should be here somewhere.' The odds that he had found out were huge, maybe even Lucius had told his boy to keep eyes out for the Boy-Who-Lived.

It was the kind of people they were, hell, they could be good. But they usually were not.

All Slytherins were like that, nowadays. They had not been such forever, but they were now. And all the good crowd avoided the house; it had sunk not into, but through the mud. Salazar would not be glad at all.

The disruption of good rituals, the murdering of their kin; Salazar Slytherin was not evil nor was he a pure blood maniac in the strictest sense of the word, he had told Merlin that Muggleborns were quick in changing loyalty and their parents held too much sway.

Murdering, Treachery, Evil. That is what Salazar wanted to prevent. But they turned him into a fanatic and a conservative champion. They took to perverting the admitably harsh teachings of the man and by it the Wizarding kind built their world.

Salazar of course had valued cunning and ambition, but he valued loyalty too. Friendship. Family. But all of that was cut when history took it's toll on the people.

A pity. Salazar's real legacy would have made great.

* * *

When Harry Potter put the cards he had gotten into his pocket, funnily Morgana knew most of them personally; and lifted that colorful little package. The girl nearly choked, making a funny whizzing noise.

Ron laughed at her reaction, and then again at Harry's expression as he looked at her. "Are they really that bad?" The black haired eleven year old boy asked. The priestess swallowed.

"Not really-" Ron began.

Morgana grimaced. "Worse."

"What I am sure she means is that should be rather careful with those." He warned while the former king's ward shook her head in disgust. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor - you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavored one once."

"Sounds great…" Morgana hissed. Remembering the same event with him.

Ron stared at her. " What did you get?"

"I do not know!" Morgana growled. She had terrible luck with those awful little beans. But then Martin had laughed so loudly, that her annoyance at thinking about it lasted to the day. "And I do not want to know Ronald!" Morgana said, daring him into suggesting it.

Harry grabbed a nasty brownish yellow looking bean and put into his mouth. He shook his head.

Morgana shivered in revulsion. "What is it?" She asked in a tiny voice

"I think it is toast - and it feels burned." Morgana let out a heavy sigh. Perhaps she was more afraid of those sickening sweets than of Voldemort himself.

"You don't want one?" Harry asked, obviously eager to share, he stretched the bag to Ron, who nodded and selectively placed one in his mouth, his eyes narrowed.

"Bleeearg." Ron yelped. "See? Sprouts." Then Harry offered the box to Morgana, who did not even consider it.

"NO." She said, nearly screaming it out. Harry flinched and nodded. Ron shrugged with half-a-grin. Yes she was more afraid of those beans than of Tom Riddle. Him she could manage.

Morgana would not touch any of them, she would look at them and yelp when the boys ate one. "I really hate them. How can you call them food!" She whined. "I ate one that I do not know what it was. Martin, James and -" The priestess trailed off, realizing she had just said 'James'. Harry looked sharply at her, Morgana thanked the goddess she had not said 'Sirius'. "An old friend of mine." She amended. Going quiet.

If she had said Sirius or Remus, it would have been impossible to hide later on.

Harry stared at her, "My dad's name was James."

She looked at him sadly. "True." She commended. "I am very sorry. It is a common name..." And nothing more was said of the matter. Though Morgana was sure Ron was so busy choosing a bean that he did not notice.

Or perhaps he did, and said nothing? Smart. Really, it was a touchy subject to Harry.

The package seemed nearly empty soon, and the boys seemed to have enjoyed them despite Morgana's hate. They, to her horror, had fun seeing which was which.

She was a noble blooded lady, for crying out loud; she could not stomach that much spoiled or disgusting food. That was why she got so thin when she lived at the hovel of hers. She did not eat back then, her powers had kept her alive.

But she did not know that, back then. Even in High Priestess quality, Morgana was unique. No other of her kin would have lived with no food. She always wondered why… Not that it mattered; the goddess kept her cards close to the chest.

Magic never cooperated with either her or Merlin.

And besides, to add insult to injury, she really had a terrible luck when it came to those candies. James had made sure of that, he always cut a little piece and offered it to her when he was sure it was just a bit disgusting. Lily had been somewhat amused at her spluttering and once or twice, Morgana had nearly vomited.

Somehow James was convincing enough. That when he stopped being so rude and childish; and grew up, Morgana stopped hating the boy; now she actually missed his daunting and mischievous personality.

She did not know who it was worse for, Harry or herself. She missed the boy that she had eventually cared for as a son, he missed a father that he did not know. Which was real funny, as that would made Morgana somewhat Grandmother to Harry. When James and Lily had turned 17, they told them both who they really were.

She missed that person, she had trusted the most; and loved as a daughter. He missed giving the comfort that only a mother could give.

Lily Evans had been Morgana's chance of pulling it right with Helena. No matter how messed up it could sound… She had felt that Lily was her friend, her confident, her protégée. She had told her everything all that had ever haunted her from Camelot to the founders era.

All that had bothered her still. Not that it mattered now, anyway. She was gone.

And James, she had doubted if it was wise to tell him. But he was not that bad too. Not that it mattered anymore, too. He was also gone. Merlin had been friends with many of the Potter family through the centuries, even the founder. Linfred. The M. Ambrose of the time had helped him on his potions.

Morgana was somewhat amused, never had Merlin used a name that did not begin with an M. When it was the Ambrose surname. But he had many others too. But no matter what, he had always used different ones. And he always helped someone, who he thought had a good heart. Merlin had replaced Arthur several times… Wasn't that amusing?

It was the official story of the day; Harry Potter looked like his father but he was more Lily's son.

Better, as far as Morgana was concerned, as James's attitude meant that she wanted to push him out of the astronomy towers at times.

Speaking of which, Merlin would not need to know about her slip. It would annoy him that she strayed from the profile they had decided on…

As it turned out they were yet to agree when to reveal themselves, if ever. Or what to do at school this years, Morgana would be Harry's friend and Merlin would take the Slytherins out of the mud, try to guide as many as he could out of the disgrace of the house.

A worthless endeavor as far as Morgana was concerned, it was not like Draco or any of his crew wanted it; and no matter what the Old Religion told her about Draco, she would never do it.

Whatever was going to happen it would be soon. But she would not get involved in Merlin's schemes for the Slytherins. Or the Old Religion's for that matter. Morgana did not owe anything to it anymore.

Quite a priestess, wasn't she? Morgause would be proud…

Harry's forlorn and sad look made Morgana swallow; poor boy…

"My father died too. Harry." She added. Harry stared at her, Ron bit his lip. The closest thing that Ron had lost was his uncle, his family was enormous. Hundreds of Weasley characters. Most of whom he barely knew.

Her thoughts turned to her family, not Uther and Arthur. But Gorlois, Vivianne, Morgause and… Guinevere.

She had no time to truly consider them; but her mind instantly replayed some things she had never forgotten about them all. Things she will not allow herself to forget. The door opened.

* * *

When Merlin finally got to Morgana's stall, he wished he had outrun Malfoy and his second-rate goons. But they were stupid as they looked, not as slow as he hoped.

Draco was raising his hand at Harry. "-I can help you with that."

Harry Potter shook his head, ever so slightly. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks." Merlin grinned, James would be proud…

Draco flinched slightly. Annoyance and anger appeared on his features, perhaps he had been told 'no', and the spoiled boy could not take it. "I'd be careful of I were you, Potter. Unless you are a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents." Morgana growled angrily. "They did not know what was good for them, either. You hang around riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it will rub off on you."

Morgana snarled at the obvious low blow; and jumped bent on now dealing with the spoiled prat on her own. He glared daggers at him. "Get out of here, Malfoy." She ordered. "I will not repeat myself." Her fury over the comments on Lily Evans (and James) made her shake with a silent and dangerous white hot rage.

"You do not tell me what to do. Stinky little Mudblood!" Ron gasped and jumped in Malfoy's general direction, screaming 'coward'. Merlin breathed loudly, hearing the disturbance from a distance. Again with that name calling, he tried to calm himself, but he was so very tempted to throw Draco off the train.

Not more than Morgana though, it took all her magical resistance not to kill the boy right there. Screw the Ministry, she could kill half the world and Azkaban would be, oh too far. Like any Auror could catch her…

Harry looked confused, and a bit angry. He too, jumped on Malfoy despite the fact they were out numbered and outmatched. Gryffindor the both of them. Merlin could tell, he had enchanted the hat himself.

Whether Harry knew what it meant or not, he was defending a girl he barely knew. An awful amount of loyalty, as far as the Old Warlock was concerned; maybe Hufflepuffs too? Who knew?

The hat would do it's job, as good as ever.

"Ron, Harry. No." Morgana hissed. Standing up and walking at Draco. Right on his face. "Get out." said she, anger and annoyance in her chest. "Or I will make you spit real rats out of that little mouth of yours." Her hands, grasped her wand and pulled it out, not pointing at the boy, just smoothing her fingers over the wood.

"Why you little-" Malfoy began. He took his wand too, like if…

He could never surpass her, not even in New Magic which was more native to him than to her. She had had thousand of years to learn, her dueling skills were unmatched by teachers, students, maybe even Albus Dumbledore. All, except Merlin. Who knew if she could beat him? They had practiced of course, dueled even… But now? They had done no practice in a century and no real dueling in a Millennia.

And she wouldn't admit it, but he had grown much stronger. And he didn't lack the finesse he had lacked when he was a youth. But she had risen too…

Finally Merlin decided that he had had enough. "Malfoy!" He said, stepping through the gate. "Move Goyle! What exactly do you think you are doing, Draco?" Martin was glaring at the pureblood, and he walked to Morgana.

"Oh, he was being a bully, Martin." Morgana managed to say, too angry to speak again.

"What is it to you, Ambrose?" Draco growled. He pointed his wand at him, Merlin raised his hands in a quick surrender motion; before Malfoy turned it back at Morgana. Merlin sighed. Bad idea, she had a temper...

Perhaps Lucius had taught him a deeply ugly dark spell in secret like Pure-Blood/Dark Magic maniacs always did. And getting hit wasn't in her plans, and even if she was willing, not from Draco.

"I do not like bullies, Malfoy. And neither does Myredero." Answered Merlin. In fact he hated them, not as much as Morgana. To say the truth, he never knew anyone who could hold a grudge like the Priestess, not even Arthur; who seemed to have a gift for it.

She seemed to have inherited that from Uther. And she knew it, and was trying her best to change. But in this case, her best was not exactly very good.

"I do not believe that Mr. Ambrose will be interested." Malfoy sneered.

"Perhaps, he will."

"Maybe he does not care about you or your Mudblood pet here." Merlin opened his mouth furiously to counter, but Morgana was quicker. She lifted her wand and a clear sharp crack sound and a orange flash hit Draco in the mouth. He staggered back and fell to the floor.

Goyle and Crabbe growled under Morgana's wand and staggered out of the room like threatened lions. Promising revenge on loud deep growls. Morgana felt annoyed, even between DeathEaters there was no loyalty. A time bomb all of them.

A nasty thought jumped in her mind. Had she been any different? Morgana narrowed her eyes and pushed it aside.

"Mor… Ellaine!" Merlin screamed.

Morgana glared at him. "I warned him." She said. Merlin face palmed himself.

"You do not do these things to people!" He hissed. Draco moaned in pain and tripped trying to stand. Meanwhile Ron whispered to Harry how much he wished he had a muggle camera. (1) And then he said something about the size of digital ones…

"Oh, come on!" Morgana yelled. "Is not like you have never consider doing that!" Malfoy tried to stand, he choked suddenly, and then spat out a mouse which hissed and crawled out; running out the door. Morgana grinned.

Merlin sighed.

A forth year girl coming from the bathroom back to her stall, shrieked and jumped running away yelling "Rat!" Many doors closed immediately.

Morgana sighed. "It is actually a mouse." She mumbled, "I do not know what went wrong." Ron and Harry were laughing hysterically in the background.

Draco yelped something that sounded like 'My father'. And slipped away with his tail between his legs. Merlin glared at Morgana and she smiled at him. "Draco wait!" He glared at Morgana one last time. And hurried after the boy.

Merlin followed the mice, he saw many people laughing behind the glass. "Draco I have to stop it!" He saw a flash of silver blond run into the Bathroom. He followed to the slammed locked door. Merlin sighed. "Draco, I can stop it!"

"Go Away!" He waffled, sounding like he had spat out another mouse as he talked. The Immortal thought that he heard a sob afterwards, what was Morgana thinking? She shouldn't be doing such a cruel thing to such a young boy. It was not a lesson, it was cruelty; plain and simple.

It reminded him of a time when Harry's father was a teenager and he was a bully. The priestess had had enough, and took on giving him a lesson. James had limped for a month, despite Madam Pomfrey's best efforts;

Funnily enough, James finally begun maturing up after that one.

Merlin remembered seeing Morgana glance threateningly at the boy when James raised his wand at a fellow student. Whatever had happened afterwards, she had furiously attacked Potter. Whose skills in dueling had not saved him…

She had demolished his shield and if Merlin had not intervened. Might have thrown him off the castle into the lake.

But Harry's father had been 16 then, Draco was barely 11. Merlin grimaced.

"You don't want to spit rats the rest of the trip, do you?"

A click sounded beyond the door, and Merlin opened the door. He yelped and jumped as a few – eight mice ran out of the bathroom. The Warlock shook and then sighed, "I am sorry."

When the castle came to view, all the children hurried to the window. Full with emotions. The first years usually had feelings of awe and a bit of fear. But this year however there were two whose emotions did not really fit... Far from the margin.

But they were not truly first years, really; and they had felt worse -much worse. But now both were feeling a sort of nostalgic sadness that would not seem right for a eleven year-old.

And also their sadness were as different from each other's as they were from the witless children they were seating with. Morgana for instance was just preparing for something she truly wished to avoid, but knew she wouldn't.

Seeing Helena, and not being able to hug her daughter always broke her heart. Even until now, the Gray Lady did not know who the new year was, she never knew that Rowena was alive anyway... And Morgana never had the heart to tell her. She did not fear the Ghost's reaction, but hers.

Hell, Helena never even knew that Rowena was Morgana.

If the Priestess, in telling; broke down in front of her daughter; she might lose control and her powers may become destructive. Maybe one day she could do it. But for now, she would avoid her entirely; she was not ready.

And then seeing the Bloody Baron also infuriated her. She would seethe with anger, and more than once Morgana had almost decided to exorcise the bastard out of the castle.

If Merlin had not bound her powers the first twenty times, perhaps Peeves would be Slytherin ghost. And hell he was not a ghost, and Morgana wanted to chuck him out too. But the Baron… Whatever Emrys wanted with Baron Blutig (2), she wanted nothing to do with him.

She had trusted the ghost once, when he was alive; but never again. The Baron had taken the most important thing she ever had.

Merlin did feel rage and some hate, but he had easier time letting go of it than Morgana ever did. After all, holding grudges could be dangerous. He had learned that much.

Now it worried her however Merlin would react to the little curse she had placed on Malfoy. And then it worried her more whether she had spend the Malfoy-Humiliated-Curse, it had been public. And she was a girl.

Damn. Perhaps she should recast it on Draco. And then something worried her even more, the Old Religion had made her feel like she was supposed to protect the Malfoy brat. Just after first seeing the brat for the first shop in the Ice-cream parlor. Like if…

But maybe, just maybe, if she ignored it, someone else would take it over for her. If anyone at all.

But then a small feeling deep inside told her, than she couldn't avoid Malfoy any much than Emrys could have done with Arthur.

* * *

 **Grounds of Hogwarts. 19:02**

Climbing out of the train had been both extenuating and confusing for Martin Ambrose. Before he had even noticed, he was in the boats.

Awful little boats, couldn't they just walk? The boats moving on their own was too much of a reminder of the Island of the Blessed.

He knew he avoided that place because of Arthur. He was going that way at the very end, when his brother, had died. But had he used any magic on the King or climbed Arthur onto Kilgharrah, would have stoked the magic on the blade. Arthur would have died quite sooner. (3)

If only had he not alienated Morgana, perhaps together they might have saved him. He understood Morgana's hate to the Pendragons, but her hate for Emrys, had been created by himself and his actions.

Not that it matter now. But then after Arthur died, gone to the fae, demanding to learn their magical wisdom, how could have he cured his brother…

Instead, a thousand years later he was stopping the effect of a cast on a child, by Morgana, of all people. What had even driven her into cursing Malfoy? What was she thinking? He had voiced this when he sat next to her in the bloody boat.

"I warned him, Martin. I did." Morgana defended. She did not look any happier than he over the travel arrangements. Her eyes were glaring at the water, almost like daring a creature appearing on the shore.

Merlin groaned. "Ellaine, that was downright foolish!" He hissed. "Cursing Draco like that." He almost slapped himself, 'Of course, Merlin, spread it to the winds!'

A couple of twins sitting with them, with red hair piped. "I am sorry, Fred and George, here." He introduced himself and his brother. "But did you say 'Draco'?" Said the first. Fred, he supposed. Were they not too old to go in the boats.

"Draco Malfoy?" George asked.

Morgana nodded. "Yes, the one and only. I am Ellaine by the way." There was something in that look they gave her when she said Malfoy that screamed 'Weasley'. Not the good nice and passive ones, but the strong, reckless, funny, and slightly hot-headed. The Warlock just hoped that they would not try flirting on Ellaine when she got 'older'.

He bit his lip. It was not to him to care whether they did so or not, Morgana could take care of herself. And everyone flirted with her, or rather – she flirted with everyone. All the time.

"We heard."

"You are Ellaine…"

"And he is Martin." Merlin bit his lip, these two surprised him. In contrast to James Potter and Sirius, the twins almost made Harry's father, and his best friend; look tame. He would know, he had taught them himself.

He usually took pride in being insightful and capable of reading people quite easily. But sometimes that was a burden. He tended to understand people before even knowing them.

"What did you do?" His twin whispered.

"Forget that." The other red head said. "Was it funny?" Merlin shook his head. Morgana smiled. That sort of behavior should not be encouraged! The Priestess sometimes seemed like such a lost cause…

She giggled. "He was speaking more 'rat' than usual." She answered.

George and Fred were not slow on the intake, they burst out laughing. And Merlin probably would have found it funny had he not seen the aftermath on the boy. Poor Draco, too exhausted, stunned and hurt to even yell at him.

The Malfoy had run over to his stall, and locked Merlin, Goyle and Crabbe out. The old warlock had cast a silent spell. If the boy needed to, say, cry; he should do it alone. Undisturbed.

Another redhead who they had not seen, fixing his glasses burst out a few minutes later. "You made him spit rats?!" He growled angrily and in a matter that seemed almost, pompously. "That is unsettling and dangerous, fighting with magic outside of school! On your first year! I am taking points as soon as you get into a house, I will!"

"Ignore our, 'charming' brother." Fred grinned, looking at the prefect. Who looked back in warning. Merlin was heavily reminded of George the Manservant.

George nodded. "He has never kissed a girl, Percy."

"That makes him grumpy." Said Fred. "We think."

"Shut up, you!" The older one hissed, appalled. He seemed like wanting to say they were wrong. "I will report this to Dumbledore!" He declared.

"Were the boats not only for four?" Morgana retorted. "Perhaps, you should report that as well. What happened? Didn't want to use the carriages?" Her grin was a self satisfied smug one that Merlin was very much familiar with. "Or did a girl refuse to let you be in hers?"

"Now see here, young –" The teenager started. Now he seemed like a grown up. Sad, children and teenagers had the right to be getting into trouble and acting half-childish. But some were born adults nowadays.

Serious, Heavy, and Pompous.

Morgana argued, voice laced with sarcasm. "Now listen to me, Mr. President. You do as you will, but do shut up." And then she pointed at him with her hand. "Or. I throw you into the lake!"

"Ellaine!" Merlin yelled. Regardless of not having her wand out, Percy flinched and his hand clumsily skipped his hand to the leather holster on his hip.

"I am a prefect!" Percy yelled. Morgana growled, she was; is a Founder! No prefect talked to her like that. Hogwarts was HERS. Hers Alone!

"Who Cares?" George added, Percy the Prefect glared at him, but shut up after threatening Morgana, he'd get her expelled. Which she answered with a growl.

"I am Myredero Ambrose's ward, do so and I will make bloody sure you do not see the inside of a Ministry Office, ever - if not to clean it." Her answer had Percy blinking in shock.

Merlin groaned. Morgana did never take a threat nicely. Fred and George made loud animals sounds.

George jumped next to Morgana. "Now…" He laughed, Morgana grinned back at him. Pulling her hair back, Merlin hissed, was she flirting? Of course, she was. That was how she kept people under tabs. Except James Potter, she never flirted with him, only threatened the boy. But that seemed to work well with him too.

Merlin preferred Morgana threatening than flirting. But he supposed the Twins, were ergh… nice.

Fred grinned. "How big were those rats?"

George placed his hand to his neck and made a grimace. "Did he choke?" Morgana smiled harder if possible.

"They were actually mice." Merlin chuckled. Though he found nothing funny about it. Apparently laughing on people's misery was a thing now. Everyone did it, not only Rabid Tyrant Kings like Uther.

"I meant them to be rats!" Morgana sighed. But then she grinned mischievously. "I will try it again later." George and Fred smiled. It was obvious they liked the vibrant brown-haired girl. After all they personality adjusted with one another.

Between the laughter, Percy Weasley spluttered indignantly. And Merlin rolled his eyes.

* * *

Who knew what the Weasley Twins were doing there?

Usually, to Merlin's knowledge - the rest of the school waited in the main hall. But knowing as much as he knew, they were probably planning out something, something that would make only Dumbledore smile, while the rest of the teachers growled. Maybe it would be real funny.

And where on Earth had they gotten the extra boat… It wasn't as if you could bring it as luggage, could you?

Perhaps that was why, serious and boring Percy Weasley was there too. To prevent it, he probably lacked a direct loyalty, perhaps he did care for his family; but was so lost in his ambitions. Merlin hoped the prefect would change someday. Family matters, now more than ever. Perhaps he had no sense of humor at all…

Also maybe that was why both Fred and George were keeping back, trying to look shorter and mingle in the crowd. He grinned, brought back memories of the original Marauders. Being a teacher then had been a challenging experience.

Now Albus, he had attended with him at school, it was hard to keep a low profile with Albus Dumbledore being as good as he was. He went out with him and decided to get some glory too. And then Morgana had been the teacher.

Now, As far as anyone was concerned, Marcus Ambrose had died about three decades ago. It was hard to let go when you forced yourself to lose something.

Merlin supposed that it would be a fine year, this one. Despite having a prefect who is a real George, not the Weasley one, but the one from Camelot. By-The-Book fools.

As if any book could teach you what experience needed to… He actually approved of students out at night. How else would they learn not to do it. Let them get caught.

The Forbidden Section in the Library? Let them see it; they would be scarred for lifetime. Just take those books that are truly dangerous and put them away. Leave the ugly, terrifying ones at front.

The Forbidden Forest? Let them have a picnic there. The werewolves won't mind. Watched over, yes, but controlled, nobody liked being subjugated.

Ordering not to do it only makes students WANT to do it. If you WARN them, and show you CARED they grew up just fine. He knew that, he had been teaching and convening with students for 900 years! Who would know better? Certainly not Percival Weasley. They finally got to the staircase and climbed to the main door.

Who ever thought of a port when building the school? Right. Himself. But it was just an idea, not meant to be used apart from nice and flashy decoration.

Hagrid raised his fist and knocked on the door, regardless of who did it, Merlin knew that if it wasn't the giant man no one would hear it. It was heavy oak from a bygone forest. Muggles and their destruction, they plowed it down, to build London's main area. Which had burned off in the great fire… 1700's, caused by Wizards too.

A few seconds later the door opened wide, and Merlin smiled. "Here we go, again." Morgana glanced at him.

Morgana became a little annoyed at children pushing to see things. They did not have to shove, they WERE going to live here for a whole seven years! But no, they kept kicking her around, messing her hair! She kept fixing the problem over and over again. Trying to keep her hair undercontrol, why did she even bother?

Soon Minerva McGonagall had walked down the staircase. Morgana smiled, she had been her professor once. While Merlin had been her classmate. And Morgana supposed; friend.

But more lastly, Merlin had taught alongside the shrewd professor.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid boomed. The stern looking woman smiled. In a very stern way, too.

"Thank you, Hagrid." She said. She said something that neither Morgana nor Merlin truly caught and just walked away. They followed quickly. The professor opened the door to an old chamber/classroom and the kids scrambled in.

Though it may have been forgotten, Merlin (and Morgana) knew exactly what that class was. It was the old Latin class. Not that it mattered anymore, the Ministry of Magic had erased it from the curriculum centuries ago.

Again the professor spoke but there was too many whispers and powerful thoughts flying in the tiny room and the Immortals' heads bounced with them. Perhaps they, too; were too excited to be able to push those off.

Then the woman turned sharply and closed the door. On the Weasley Twins faces. Despite the red heads many screams and complains. But most of the children were all to excited to care really. Maybe they did not notice.

Occlumancy and Legimancy came easy to them both. So easy that they did it, with little effort or thinking.

A little brown haired girl exclaimed and pointed. Morgana turned and was instantly filled with much sorrow and pain.

Helena.

Her little girl. Right there, dead. Merlin looked at Helena too and went to grab Morgana's hand, knowing full well what Helena entitled to the priestess. Who squeezed hard, and Merlin yelped. "Ow!"

"Sorry." She pulled back.

"It's okay." Muttered he. But she was gone, lost among the children. Merlin sighed, he turned to look at the girl he had raised. Sometimes Morgana forgot that he was Helena's father.

The door opened again and Merlin huffed, pushing all nervous thoughts aside. He climbed in to the enormous hall.

His mind replayed the many events he had seen. The lanterns were made of iron, now. Originally it had been gold, but they were replaced when they began turning dark by the heat. He should have used a spell to repel it but he had forgotten the effect of magical fire on metals as soft as gold.

How many years had Hogwarts been his home? Every time he was back, he wondered why he would return… Would it be without meaning yet again? Would this moment ever come? Had it truly had?

Everything pointed that it indeed arrived… But then the Old Religion played it's cards close to the chest. Things could simply be the book's cover. A prologue to the real story. And they were but a bid.

Per instructions, the whole line of newcomers got into position. The Sorting was about to begin. Merlin listened to the song half-heartedly, whatever happened this year… Being Harry, the one, or not; it would greatly matter.

McGonagall stood up front with the old sorting hat, maybe Morgana should have made it a statue or something instead… Poor thing, it had nothing better to do than sort people out, and gather dust afterwards for an entire year.

A'N There you go!

Please point me out any mistakes you find so I may change it.

(1) Ron would have heard about them I suppose. And Wizard Camera's as depicted in the movie are big and heavy; he would have gone for the other one.

(2) Meaning Blood in German. You see. Baron 'Blood'.

(3) A most desired and needed explanation.


	8. The Sorting - 1991

**Chapter 7:**

 **The Sorting.**

* * *

 **Sorry for the Long Radio Silence, I hit a massive writer's block and even though I had the chapter written on time the quality was poor.**

* * *

 **September 2th, 20:02**

* * *

Morgana clapped absentmindedly when the hat finished it's song. It deserved some merit. The song had never been repeated in one millennia. Who knew it could be so original? Helga had done well with asking it to sing. Morgana had been skeptical at first, but well, she was always skeptical and millennia old habits break hard.

Neither she nor Merlin enjoyed the sorting anymore, if it weren't for the different set of people the whole thing was getting terribly repeatedly and somewhat tedious. Nothing changed at Hogwarts anymore and nothing had since roughly the 13th century, nothing but the iron lamps, they used to be gold but Merlin had forgotten to make them immune to heat, so she, naturally, blamed him.

And Merlin? He wasn't nervous no matter what Morgana, his shaking feet or his dry lips would say. He breathed loudly, trying to relax. Morgana seemed to notice his discomfort wherever in the line she was, 'Alright, Mer?'

He turned to find her and smiled at her when he did, 'Get out of my head, 'Gana'. She rolled her eyes, and hoped that maybe, just, maybe he was doubting the wisdom in choosing Slytherin House. Maybe he would pay heed to her. Just before entering the hall, Morgana had suggested Merlin join her in Gryffindor House.

He had said it was a possibility, and then spoke no more.

He was saying little right now too, leaving Morgana to chuckle and roll her eyes as McGonagall grabbed the twins by the ears and took them away to sit on their tables. Had she been a teacher this year she might have done the exact same thing. As soon as they sat they waved at her and then rubbed the tip of their nose at Ron, who turned crimson and turned away.

They may have been sorted in Gryffindor, but those two would have been the type of students fought over by the Founders. Even her, even if they had the same awful sense of humor as Gryffindor himself had, the same that had driven her crazy at points. But as of now, they seemed nice and funny. She would enjoy talking to them in the common room. But more than teaching? She occasionally began taking glances of the table the teachers were using, she truly felt she belonged there more than with the children. She had always enjoyed teaching.

"So we only have to try on the hat?" Morgana heard Ron whisper. "I'll kill George, he was going on about wrestling a troll…" Morgana grinned, a troll? She would never endanger the children with such a task. Hell, she had refused on letting Godric use his sword to try for Gryffindors, that thing was sharp and heavy, plus children? Recipe for disaster.

Godric wasn't too happy with her refusal and suggested a boggart, to Morgana's horror. He had trouble picking students, obviously, the foolish but good man was too strict over who he had wanted on his house. Children were not as brave at first as he wanted them to be.

He doubted the hat's choice over many students and suggested the spells were redone, and when Salazar had refused Godric argued for making a new house to accommodate those who barely fitted, and in that occasion it was Helga who disagreed, children would feel awful rejected by all mayor houses to go to this last resort. The only reason Gryffindor had not tried to redo the spells on his liking was Rowena raising her eyebrows at him.

Eventually Gryffindor had wizened and understood that there were more ways to be brave, but at first he had been as pompous and trying as Arthur. Which Morgana had not been too pleased about.

The priestess turned to look at the hat and the professor as McGonagall spoke. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sat on the stool to be sorted. Abbot, Hannah." She said. Ah, another Abbott; was she related to that cloud headed Headmaster? Maybe she was, the family tree book on Morgana's library may say. Merlin's hobby more than hers, he liked to keep track of every family he met. He knew the wizard families very well, their origins and all.

The blond chubby little girl with identical pigtails was terribly nervous and it showed, her body shook and her walking was slow, as shaky as her body and her steps were unsure. Morgana could see Hannah grasping her wand through her chest. She wouldn't need it. Why was she clutching to it like that?

She sat on the stool and the hat covered her head up to the shoulders, and not to long later it shouted it's verdict. "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Morgana grinned when she saw McGonagall's eyes widen. "Ambrose, Martin." She whispered. And then realizing people hadn't heard repeated it. "Ambrose, Martin!" The hall became silent immediately. Morgana could see children looking up, desperately trying to see the heir to one of the biggest fortunes in the Wizarding World.

There was a small commotion on the teacher's table, the tiny professor Flitwick had slipped and pulled the tablecloth, and everything on it as he fell. He saw children laugh, and he smiled, hopes high about this year being great.

Merlin saw the turban professor expertly slip away. He frowned, he did not know Quirrel, but the attitude was starting to make him suspect. There was something about that man. He stood up and kept staring as the professor casually, silently opened the door and disappeared.

The Weasley twin's eyes were wide as the lanky blond child stood up and took the hat from a mildly surprised McGonagall. George broke the silence. "Is that…?" He whispered to his brother.

"Martin. It is." The awe was evident in their voice. Morgana grinned. If this was how they reacted to the heir of Myredero Ambrose, Ancient Billionaire. Both she and Merlin wondered how would the children respond to Harry James Potter. The famed Boy-Who-Lived. It was an impressive feat, Morgana had to admit.

Would they survive a killing curse? She truly could not tell, neither Merlin nor herself had never been hit by one, not for lack of opportunities. They had always blocked it someway or another. With magic old or new. Could New Magic kill them? She believed that the New Ways could not hope to do it, but she would not put that theory to the test.

As soon as the teens spoke everyone started to comment. "I've heard the Ambrose family is so rich that they could buy the Ministry." A girl mumbled. Merlin sat on the stool and let the hat fall over his head.

"Susan, that's impossible." The girl's friend responded. "That would be billions of galleons!"

Morgana grimaced, their shared fortune did reach several billions of galleons and it had been obtained through years.

It began with the selling of books they had published which Morgana had used to officially buy the land in which they lived, plus a little extra where farms had been placed, which had been wildly successful in the 9th century. As burghers they had done extremely well and then both her and Merlin had given advice to William of Normandy for several reasons who paid them really well.

However their fortunes then had been a fraction of what it was now. It had grown greatly when they had become investors. Morgana couldn't exactly remember which had been Merlin's first inversion but she could remember hers, Ollivanders. She had made her first million through it back in the 8th century.

So maybe they now had a trillion? She did not know, she had not checked the finances in years. She never needed to, even her castle was magically made, all of it was transfigured or, simply, conjured. They could, and would, be extremely frugal too, so very little expenses plus enormous incomes meant an easily maintained fortune, and if you multiplied that by a Millennia…

She still couldn't buy the Ministry though… Not that she wanted to, that system was broken.

* * *

The stool was a nice arrangement, Merlin thought. Only a couple of decades ago the sorting was done standing up. He sat on it and placed the hat as fast as he could over his head, he didn't want to be unnerved by the looks his classmates would give him.

"Welcome back my lord." The hat said.

"Well, Hello there." He replied. "It's nice to, ergh – see you again?"

He didn't want to start a conversation with it, the last time he had done it the hat and he had spent half-an-hour on it and they had decided to start with the feast and redo the sorting later that evening.

It wasn't Merlin's fault, he blamed the founders. Morgana and the rest had given the hat a personality fun to chat with. The hat was insightful, funny and open-minded, and it knew quite a lot. Making chatting with it a entertaining event.

"Thank you, lord. You are too kind." The hat said. "Would you chose a house then?" Would he just say it? Or not…

Screw it. "I am not sure." Merlin whispered, softly. He knew the hat refused to sort him, 'You are of a greater purpose than I, my lord. I would not dare to judge you.', he would say. It irremediably forced Merlin to make the choice, usually he would just say it… But now.

The hat gasped, if possible… "Ahhh. You are back with a purpose, now!" It said.

"Well…"

"Do not deny it!" The hat laughed. "I feel you are driven. " Merlin flinched, he did not like people entering his mind, it made him feel both invaded and vulnerable. "You already made a choice but you are doubting it." The hat added. "Why?"

Merlin opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut.

In all his time at Hogwarts, not once had they told the hat their true identities. It knew they hid them, but all it did was doubting.

"You are right, I made a choice." Merlin sighed. Maybe he'd regret it but, "I stand by it."

The hat made a mental move that could only be a telepathic nod. "Is the lady here?" It asked, "Will I speak to her again?" There was no doubt of whom it spoke.

"She is." This time it was Merlin who felt the hat's emotions, it seemed excited to see Morgana again. It had been Morgana, she had made it. It was quite obvious that no man knew who had enchanted the hat... It had not been necessary to tell as they had all made the children take aptitude tests to assign them. But of Hogwarts' fifth year there were too many children to do it, a new option had to be taken into account. Which led to the hat...

Some say that it was the combined effort of all the founders, but that was false, Godric was a resourceful man, but he did not think the solution.

It was Rowena, or rather Morgana herself that after making a list of options to use had returned to her room. Seen that her own hat had been finally delivered, as soon as she saw it on her bed she had the idea. Her reaction had been somewhat amusing, she had called the founders and Mortimer and said that she had found a solution.

Merlin had not been too happy about the hour, he wanted to sleep. After all, he had an old man, not Dragoon as Morgana would have seen right through that; guise on, and he wanted the sleep. Everything ached.

So when they all met in the headmaster's office and she went to Godric and asked him for his hat, she wasn't going to use one of hers. She enchanted it right there, making it able to read minds, think and basing it's basic personality on Merlin, Guinevere, the rest of the founders and herself. They had been ecstatic Salazar, Godric and Helga had told the hat their requirements for their houses and tried it on for the hat to use as a basic profile of Slytherin, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students.

The priestess had not though, he had told Ambrose she did not want children to be like her. She had taken the hat and had Ravenclaw based on her daughter, Helena. As Morgana wanted children she could get along with. And she was smart and bookish herself, more of a Ravenclaw that Morgana truly was.

Later they had used some spells that had made it quite better. Helga had added some creative thinking to the hat, something Morgana had never thought of; Gryffindor had given it the possibility of allowing choice to be taken into account, which was a nice idea as it made the hat less strict, Salazar had ingrained respect into it, which seemed unnecessary, and Merlin had enchanted it with the basic aptitude tests they had previously used.

At first the very object had needed some guidance, which had been provided by Rowena using legimency, but a couple of months later it could sort by itself. Helga had convinced the hat that it should use the creativity she provided to make a Song for every year start… Because according to her it seemed quite bored, the hat had loved the idea and had begun singing at all times. After Helga had suggested he take it to his office. Merlin had enchanted it with a good singing voice, that of a tenor, he had to, he supposed he would need his ears in the future.

And on the tenth year of the school's opening, the Hogwarts sorting hat was ready to be used, officially anyway… And it became, and still is, part of Hogwarts legacy forever, as it should be.

Everything they had worked on in Hogwarts deserved nothing less. There was very little in Hogwarts that did not hold their combined power. Hogwarts' secrets were many, there was more of the castle that one could see. A connection to their very own castle in the crystal cave. Where much powerful spells and objects were kept.

Nowadays that was their manor only purpose, a vault for objects too dangerous to be kept.

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat screamed, Merlin sighed taking it out still deep in thought. He went to the teachers table and gave it to McGonagall. He turned around and walked to his table, there was no applause this time there were only… Whispers.

Martin wondered immediately how Lucius Malfoy would react. Maybe he would be to use the ward to get to the master, probably trying to get Draco become Martin's friend. But that was unusually obvious, even for the Malfoy Sr. But some Malfoys were just like that, loud, almost belligerent even.

Morgana sighed over Martin's choice. Oh well, Merlin, was stubborn as ever. Maybe he would succeed in improving Salazar's house. But more likely probably not. He had tried before, not as an Ambrose… But that was before Voldemort. Many years before he had even been born

She stared at him as he turned around, gave the hat to McGonagall and went to sit at his House table. "Welcome to Slytherin, young snake!" The bloody baron laughed. Merlin stared at him and the ghost froze.

"Thanks Baron." Merlin said, softly. He knew that the Baron and Helena had a somewhat friendlier relationship in the death than they did in living. But that did not make it any easier, smiling at the man who murdered his daughter.

Morgana had more than once attempted to exorcise the ghost out of the castle, but Merlin had prevented it. It would give them away, precious few magics were capable of affecting a ghost.

He turned to stare at Morgana just as Bones, Susan joined the Hufflepuff. The Priestess was glaring, which wasn't all that rare, but was surprised Merlin was that she wasn't glaring at the Baron. But when he followed her look it all made sense she was glaring at Severus Snape and no wonders there… Maybe this time she wouldn't transfigure him into an otter? Or throw him into a vase, either.

Last time she met him he was a Death Eater and Morgana a pissed off passerby. The whole matter had been swiftly covered up by the then Minister of Magic. No one needed to know an 'old witch' had dealt with Death Eater Severus Snape when their own Aurors were unable to. As amusing as it had been, Merlin wasn't too happy that she could not keep the façade as they had agreed.

She had however been unable to catch him, her jeering and violence sometimes weakened her effectiveness. Rita had made up an interview that made Morgana seemed like a scolding Grandma, Rita had gotten her mouth disappear in retaliation.

But it would be far worse now, he could almost see the headlines. 'Ambrose Heiress turns Professor into a Squirrel.' All in Rita Skeeter's awful font choice. And probably in a sick pinkish color. Oh, Rita, that woman was trouble.

She had tried sneaking into his manor once, a huge extension of Morgana's once crystal cave castle, Merlin did not know what to do with that much space. Morgana would not stop building, she had space for hundreds of thousands people and she still wasn't satisfied.

Skeeter never did manage it, of course, he caught her in the act, and then she always insisted he was hiding something… It was annoying really. Because he was. He was hiding an awful lot.

And he wondered how much it would take before 'Martin' was approached by her. But there was one speck of hope in this, that she would never set one foot in the castle, he could not see Dumbledore liking having her around, not since she called his beard 'a-portable-wand-hiding-cupboard' and suggested that he used a wand branded to it in order to be able to make wandless magic by just waving his beard around.

The article had been awful, but Morgana had found it so amusing that she giggled the entire day. And every time she manage to stop, she said something about beardless magic and ended up laughing again.

Merlin had not been so amused the next article when his own beard was compared to Dumbledore's and a number of theories posted regarding his old age, which included but was not summarized with 'a-the-longest-beard-of-them-all-curse'.

Morgana had found it so amusing that she had tricked him and measured his beard. Making the very annoyed him respond by throwing her into their pool, she had been so amused that any spell involving pain from her had not happened, instead she had made his beard puffy in retaliation, and taken a picture.

Said picture had actually and somehow ended in Rita's repertoire when she wrote the next bit about him and his possibly-going-to-an-Australian-beach-next-summer? Article. The saddest thing was that some had actually believed Rita, and had gone to Australia looking for him.

But Pray that was not the end, one of her last article of him, broke new limits when Skeeter presented 'undeniable' evidence that he was going bald even in the facial hair department, and having to keep using hair extensions in his beard.

There was another article of him, that had called him a 'tall goblin with human ears and pointy nose.' And one that had said 'Greying Old Ambrose and his famous white hair.' And one last other that called him 'The Ancient Barmy.' The last had actually been a front page.

No one would take him seriously when the article said 'in the opinion of the Medieval Long-Beard'. Reason why, only lately, he had refused her entrance into his events, though that did not stop her making things up. Rita Skeeter had a very wild imagination. In truth, he had never met a person who could be so rude in such a polite matter.

Morgana would know too. She wasn't safe from Rita, either, but it was much more difficult to keep Rita save from Morgana's sadistic, vindictive, streak. Protecting people from Morgana was still an important duty of his, today.

Merlin sighed and peeked his hearing, an older boy was speaking of him. "Is strange that an Ambrose would end Slytherin, they usually don't go to Slytherin."

He turned and stared at Harry for a moment slightly preoccupied, what if he didn't? What if Harry was the first Potter in five generations to go to Hufflepuff? By the Old Religion that their loyalty to good made them qualify to Helga's once or twice. As far as he could recall, no Potters had ever gone to Slytherin. And only one ever went to Ravenclaw. But that family tended to go to Gryffindor first and foremost, but exemptions did happen.

For Instance Terry Boot was just being sorted. "RAVENCLAW!" The hat screamed.

Merlin laughed. The Boots, like the Potters and like most houses in the world, tended to go to the same house. And Terry as most of his family went into Ravenclaw. Scholars and Sages they were. Or just very smart. Webster Boot was one of them, he had known him as a young man, he had founded a school too, in Ireland. He had gone there too, not as an Ambrose. He had actually enjoyed the change of ambiance, but like any other school, it was just not the same, Hogwarts was his home.

Morgana had liked it fine and had stayed to teach for a while. Merlin often thought that it had nothing with the school, Morgana just liked Ireland. It was amusing for Merlin, really, as she had come back a few decades later with heavy Irish accent. Which tended to relapse when she got excited.

He turned to see her and found that they had just sorted a young girl, and she was pulling off Godric's hat and giving it back to McGonagall, as she called for "Bullstrode, Millicent." Who soon joined Martin at the Slytherin table and for a moment he considered talking to her, but her arrogant and smug profile made him regret it.

Maybe he should have gone to Gryffindor, after all. Brown, Lavender; the girl sorted just before Bullstrode, seem to be quite a nicer chat than Millicent was. He remitted himself to just watch the sorting and barely glanced at Finch-Fletchly, Justin as he became a Hufflepuff. He looked on stoically as Finnegan, Seamus became a Gryffindor.

It was when Minerva smiled and called out. "Granger, Hermione." That Merlin became really interested, he knew she wouldn't join him in Slytherin, there was no chance of that; but a small part of him still wished it. And he had already decided he would influence the hat with his magic if need be, but only to put Potter, Harry in Gryffindor.

Hermione turned to stare at him and he gave her a thumbs up. She really needed to relax. She was soon sorted in Gryffindor and Merlin sighed softly. He just might regret his choice.

"Longbottom, Neville" Came next, as Merlin regarded the spell he would use to confound the hat a little. He barely saw Neville walk down after being named a Gryffindor, all red faced and taking the hat with him. And he shook his head, however slightly, in response.

He heard Millicent say something along the lines of "Fat Stupid Oaf." And he sighed loudly, maybe Morgana was right. He should have gone Gryffindor too. He ignored the next sorting, considering the consequences of asking to try the hat on again… until.

"Malfoy, Draco." He looked up, it was well too obvious that… Given his attitude and family history… His ideology, too… That when it touched his head it would most certainly say…

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Of Course…" Merlin muttered. And just looked up as the blond boy sat down, avoiding Millicent and seating next to him instead. Was it to jest, or he disliked the girl? She seemed right up his alley. But then again, the Malfoys liked jesting.

"Well, well Ambrose." Draco jeered, grinning. "You. A Slytherin. " Merlin lifted his eyebrows at the boy, apparently it was an attempt to jest at him, the immortal would pat his own back, if he could, these Malfoys… They were all the same, ever. "Not my first choice, truly." Draco said, loudly. Merlin shook his head. Other Slytherin students were staring.

"I don't believe you are going to resist this Draco, you do have the Malfoy ego." He said. Malfoy scowled. And Merlin had to resist a grin, just as Morgana, Draco had perfected scowls and pouts to an art. But Morgana was far better, perhaps it was the black magics she knew so perfectly which backed up her deadly smiles.

"Will Myredero be glad of your house placement, I wonder." Draco laughed, staring at McGonagall, who cleared her voice once more. If that was the way with which Draco planned to unhinge him, it was the wrong way to do it.

"He'll like it fine." Merlin shrugged, speaking softly, as McGonagall called for Lily Moon. "Why would he not? It doesn't really matter outside of Hogwarts, does it?" He answered. Draco snorted, but Merlin did not stop talking. "I know Lucius will be glad of yours." He said. "Tell me, what is your opinion of other houses but Slytherin?" Malfoy flinched.

"Attacking your new classmates isn't very wise, Martin." Draco retorted. Normally, he'd be right, and normally Merlin wouldn't do it. But he had to guide Draco Malfoy through a process of evolution in kindness similar to Arthur's, and he had to intervene. Alas, being sarcastic and nigh unbearable worked with the Prince, so why not?

"I am not." Merlin sighed, shaking his head. "I am defending myself from your jeers and rudeness, Malfoy."

Draco snorted in response and opened his mouth. Whatever he was going to say dies on his lips when McGonagall raised her voice twice then, for a boy and then for. "Morgan, Ellaine." Merlin looked at Morgana, and nodded 'We agreed.' He sent to her. And he hoped she would answer.

'We did, indeed.' Morgana sighed into his mind. 'Don't worry Merlin, I'll convince the hat to send Harry to Gryffindor as well.' Merlin smiled. Well, he didn't thought of that. That was why he worked better with the priestess than without her. Not that he even did work without her, not in years.

So the girl walked forward, slowly, taking her time, but she had already drawn quite a bit of attention. Boys all over were staring at her, she was taller than the rest of the girls and there was something they liked in the brunette… Girls instead glared furiously, hating how pretty Ellaine was, and to make matters worse, Merlin knew she was quite more beautiful as Morgana than she was as Ellaine, or would be.

Draco glared daggers at her, "I don't know how you expect to survive in Slytherin with that attitude." He said to him, with an icy tone. Merlin wasn't worried, he had survived far worse.

"You've been in Slytherin like for twenty minutes. What makes you an expert?" Merlin argued back. Merlin thought he heard Theodore giggle a bit, and due to Draco turning to glare at him he might be right. Martin grinned when Malfoy's brow furrowed as he turned to answer, but the Immortal was quicker. "Also, technically, I've been in Slytherin longer than you."

Malfoy scowled.

"I've been in Slytherin since I was born!" He growled.

"Yeah, well by that logic I am turning twelve in a couple of months, while you'll be 11 all the year." Merlin said. "I am still Slytherin longer than you." Draco rolled his eyes and breathed hard. This boy was infuriating.

He hissed. "Really lose the sarcastic attitude, if you cannot treat your bette-" Then he stopped. Merlin glared.

"Were you going to say betters? You forget yourself, Draco." The immortal growled, hissing to himself, Now Merlin, don't turn him into an urchin. "In the materialistic world you live in, I am your better." He didn't know how deep Lucius Malfoy's pockets were but he could fit him entirely into his own pockets.

"You should start respecting me, Ambrose." Malfoy drawled almost threateningly. Which Martin found rather dull. "We Slytherin families value somethings more than money."

"What?" Merlin asked. "Am I supposed to kneel down, and let you trample me?" Merlin growled. Draco stared at him, "Or is it her you want, Malfoy?" He asked gesturing to Ellaine.

He glared at Draco, almost daring him to say something. But the boy stood up and went to sit next to Crabbe and Goyle. Merlin sighed, this year will be interesting.

Morgana took the hat and placed it over her head. Chuckling when it fitted right through. Maybe in a couple of years it would be a perfect fit. After all, she had said hat enchanted to fit the adult head perfectly. Funnily enough, it was Mortimer Ambrose who had suggested to the founders they use something wearable.

She had not known it was Merlin at the time, he had hid himself well. She had found him when looking for an architect to help her with Hogwarts, and had offered him a place to stay and work in. When parents demanded a headmaster to appeal to, she had offered him.

So the architect of Hogwarts had been the same as the Headmaster. Now they were regarded as different people, and they were both Merlin.

After only a couple of seconds had passed, "My lady, welcome back." The voice said.

* * *

Point out any mistakes please.


	9. The Feast Begins - 1991

**Chapter 8:**

 **The Feast Begins**

* * *

 **New Chapter. Thanks for sticking with me so far.**

* * *

 **September 1st, 21:23.**

* * *

"GRYFFINDOR."

Morgana was done in seconds, or at least that it seemed compared to Martin. She had decided that it was better if the meeting with the Hat was kept quite brief, though she did promise to speak to it several times later in the following years. She smiled as she handed the hat back to McGonagall walking then to sit next to Hermione, just partly ignoring the Gryffindor's applauses and cheers.

Draco was still glaring at her, far from Martin but not too as far as necessary for Merlin not to see him, and Martin was starting to lose his patience. "Oi! Do you have to be that much of a git?" He protested, "Leave her alone, Draco." If the boy attempted anything with Morgana, he would get burned, and there were things the Priestess could do that not even Merlin could not stop.

Malfoy turned to Merlin with a snap and glared at him. Merlin sighed. Here it comes…

"I have some advice for you, Ambrose " Malfoy drawled, scowling. Martin rolled his eyes, that boy was surely getting wrinkles early in life. "For this and the next six years your first loyalty is to your house. Learn it or deal with the consequences." Stupid boy, could he not see that Merlin was trying to protect him?

And that whole 'deal with the consequences' thing tasted bitter for Merlin. "Is that a threat, Draco?" He growled, ignoring the fact that everyone was staring at them both.

Merlin narrowed his eyes, would he get into too much trouble if he minimized that particular classmate and then threw him into his Pumpkin juice? Draco frowned even harder, until he looked like he was trying to purposely disfigure his face. "A warning."

"And not at all friendly," Merlin growled. This boy was going to be the end of him, or rather at this rate he was going to be the end of Malfoy. That boy was messing with powers beyond his ken, and Morgana was one such power with little patience to speak of, and a sadistic streak.

Recently sorted Nott, Theodore came and sat right next to Draco. Neither him nor Merlin clapped, and the rest were barely cheering his sorting, no one was too eager to interrupt the heirs fighting in the table.

"Malfoy," Theodore said softly, almost shyly. It seemed to be some matter of greeting, Malfoy didn't greet back.

He just rolled his eyes. "Not now, Nott." Theodore froze by the coldness of Draco's tone and turned away.

"Know each other, huh?" Merlin said with a sarcastic tone. Was Theodore Nott a friend? An acquaintance? Did Draco have friends for that matter? Or did he only have fans like Arthur had before Merlin? Crabbe and Goyle certainly fitted that description.

"What do you care?" Draco said.

Merlin sighed. "You know what? I don't."

Draco smiled, though it seemed more like a hybrid between a grin and a snarl than a proper smile. "That's better." He said. Merlin felt anger peak in his chest, and he almost blasted Lucius' son into the tinted windows.

"Better?" He snapped. "If you pretend to modify my behavior, desist." The immortal said. "You can't play me, Draco, I am not a pureblood, I have money and I know how this world works." Fighting with Draco Malfoy wasn't what he had in mind when he chose Slytherin.

Draco glared and turned away. Merlin sighed. Apparently, he 'won' the argument again. Though it didn't feel a victory in the slightest.

* * *

The bushy haired girl smiled softly, "You are Martin's friend?" She asked. Morgana grinned at her, she had probably seen her and Merlin talking at some point. It seemed she had more interest on Martin that she did on, for instance, Harry, which would have been the normal thing.

The Priestess hoped it didn't mean what she suspected it was.

Oh, Merlin. With his shining blue eyes and kind goofy naïveté… He may not intend it, but he broke hearts all the same. He was just too good to people even when, no scratch that – specially when they did not deserve it. Morgana had once heard that doctors could not resist when presented impossible cases… Maybe Merlin was a Doctor at heart, even when his healing spells were awful…

It explained her partner-in-crime's fixation with Malfoys, Slytherins and the lot…

Morgana smiled at Hermione. "I am so much more than just that." She said. "But yes." Morgana winced as she saw another boy join Merlin. He did not look too happy… Oh well, that's what he gets for not listening to her.

Hermione blinked, "Oh I didn't mean to pry…" She added, slowly. "Or to imply anything." Morgana could barely figure out what Hermione was thinking. For about a minute she stared at the girl, was she implying anything? Did it go over her?

"You are doing neither." Morgana finally responded. Then grinned, raising her hand as to shake Hermione's. "Ellaine Morgan."

Hermione grinned, "I'm Hermione Granger." She said. Morgana smiled and nodded, if Merlin had liked this girl then so, probably, would Morgana.

They spent a couple of minutes in silence before any of them would break it, just staring as the sorting taking place. And then…

"So, how long have you known him?" Hermione asked. Morgana turned at her slowly, it wasn't a pleasantry, Hermione was really interested in Martin's past. So it may be what Morgana suspected, the fool had really charmed the girl.

Morgana laughed softly, looking at the candles. "Sometimes it feels like I've known Martin forever." She was saying, with a small hint of nostalgia that went completely ignored to everyone on the table, but that anyone who would understand that nostalgia would have immediately detected. "We all but grew up together…"

Yes, it wasn't quite though, but for the sake of appearances they had chosen a similar story to their own. It was easy lying that way, when the deceit was almost true.

"Do tell…" Fred said.

She told them, fairly quickly how Merlin barely knew his father, that he grew with his mother in an almost humble home, when he grew older, which had been seventeen in Camelot but five or six in the story she told, her mother sold the house and moved to Myredero's.

She then told them how they were taken in by Myredero, who was her ancestor, and who unbeknown to all but her had technically replaced both Uther and Gaius in his story. Though Merlin would probably think of Gaius, not Uther, when telling the story. Morgana chose to do to, Gaius had always been kind to her even when she had not deserved it.

When they asked about her, shortly after, she told them she was his ward. Ellaine's mother died young, just as Morgana's had, and Ellaine's father had been killed in a terrible accident. How Myredero had shown up the very next day in the orphanage and taken her in.

It turned out that she was a descendant of Myredero, the great-grandchild of a squib Ambrose, and the reason why Ambrose took her in. The next she said was quite simple, both Ellaine and Martin grew together for the following five years since they met, Martin's mother died right before he started Hogwarts.

And the lie was complete.

Hermione looked directly at Merlin. "So you two are close?" Martin was staring at the sorting stoically, almost bored.

"I'd say so." Morgana sighed. Then smiled. "We had our bad moments too, though."

Lavender grinned. "He is kind of cute." Morgana raised her eyebrows and turned at the girl. "What is he like?" She stared at Merlin, he had chosen to look a bit like Arthur, so maybe he did look attractive to the girls. Merlin choosing such a classically handsome look was going to be annoying.

"I could tell you how he is like!" Hermione interjected, annoyed that Lavender was ignoring her altogether.

Morgana smiled at Hermione disarmingly. "He is kind, sweet. A bit naïve, too." Then she chuckled, shaking her head in derision "Very naïve."

"Do you know Myredero, too?" Percy Weasley interjected. Looking interested for the first time in the whole day.

"But, of Course." Morgana said, cocky tone, slightly narrowed eyes, coy smile. All the best of her snark for Percy Weasley, pompous fool. "I AM his ward. So you better be nice to a girl for once." Perhaps the whole concept of ward was alien to these children. Percy scowled and turned away looking at some girl being sorted, obviously hating Ellaine's guts.

"We thought you were kidding to mess with Percy!" Fred, or George, added. Their older brother, Prefect Percy glanced to the side, glaring at them through the sidelines of his eyes.

"Not at all." Morgana said softly, grinning at Percy. "He was getting on my nerves." Percy turned at her, and she smiled at him raising her left eyebrow until it disappeared in her beautiful, almost a bun, hair-do. He snorted and turned back again.

"Smooth." The other twin complimented her, obviously joking on her and his brother's expense.

She smiled at him and then spoke, pursing her lips. "Thank you, you too. Almost." McGonagall spoke up, and Morgana turned, finally hearing what she had wanted to hear since she had sat down almost fifteen minutes ago.

"Potter, Harry" Harry started to walk to the stool, shakenly Harry was truly Lily's son, James had nearly waltzed to sit, it had been a bit... Arrogant, and a memory that made her roll her eyes.

An older Gryffindor girl gasped. "Potter did she say?"

"THE Harry Potter?" A boy close to the girl asked, not answering her question. Whispers broke out like wildfire, and even though Morgana wasn't at all interested in paying attention to any of them, she really didn't care what the Hogwarts children thought of the Boy-Who-Lived. Though she was just slight curious what the Death Eater Juniors thought of Harry, she'd have to ask Merlin later on.

Morgana stared at Harry as her hat covered his face. She had told the hat, that Harry Potter was a Gryffindor, and that that was where he was going to be placed, and to just do it. Judging by the time it was taking to make HER decision, the hat was misbehaving, she would have a discussion with it later that day. The hat was almost like a son, and Morgana did indeed love it, but in this case it was like a rebellious one, he had gone with the same thing with Helena.

Morgana breathed turning to the Ravenclaw table staring at it with well hid sadness, sometimes thoughts of her darling girl jumped uninvited into her mind, she didn't like it, but there was little she could do about that. It was hard not to think of her, she saw Helena in the trees of her home, in the bright white flowers that predated those apples at her garden, she even saw her in Merlin, occasionally.

The hat screamed. "GRYFFINDOR!" And Morgana sighed, at least some things did go as she planned.

The cheers erupted all over her table, Percy jumped into the air. "We got Potter!" Percy screamed, repeatedly. Harry walked uncertainly and slipped through Percy looking both shocked, excited and embarrassed.

Morgana stood up, raising her voice enough for the boy to hear. "Oi! Harry. Over here!" She said, standing up. Then added as he sat. "Save that spot for Ron, will you?"

* * *

Merlin was miserable. For one, no one was even trying talking to him, they all looked at him as he were some sort of extraterrestrial being. Two, he was starving. Three, and most importantly, Morgana was right, the Slytherin kids were a mess! The sorting wasn't even over and he was already regretting his choice.

While twins, "Patil, Padma." and "Patil, Parvarati." were sorted into Ravenclaw and Gryffindor and Merlin was already mumbling a curse who would erase the memory of everyone in the castle and allow him to take the hat again. The only thing stopping him was that Morgana smirk that said 'I was right!'. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

A girl, Merlin did not hear her name, was sorted, and then finally, "Potter, Harry!" McGonagall proclaimed. Martin chuckled at the eruption of whispers.

"Is it really him?" Theodore asked softly.

Draco hissed behind Goyle, "Oh. It is him." He said. "He is all but a Muggle. Knows nothing of our world." Merlin rolled his eyes, it was obvious he had wanted Harry on his side. Why, he couldn't tell. Maybe he was actually hurting over Harry's refusal.

"He'll learn soon enough." Martin said.

Malfoy glared at him. Merlin glared right back. "Ready to start acting your house, Ambrose?" The pureblooded boy asked with a snarl. Merlin rolled his eyes yet again and sighed.

Merlin flinched and then glared even harder. I should have left him to vomit mice for the day, he though, ungrateful brat. "Last time I checked, Draco, it was Slytherin who defined the house and the hat chose by his standards, and that hat chose me."

Draco shrugged, eyes narrowed. "Mistakes have been made." He stated.

Martin wheezed in annoyance, "Ha!" Not that he knew of. And he knew a lot about it this was his hundredth sorting, on the very least.

Draco growled. Nott gave an amused snort, making Malfoy turn at him. "Something to say, Theo?!" He hissed. Theo flinched.

"It's amusing." He said carefully. "The two biggest heirs of Great Britain starting this year in Slytherin, and you hate each other." Merlin bit his lips. It's true that Martin Ambrose and Draco Malfoy were seemingly very alike in some ways. Rich boys who grew without a worry in their heads, always getting what they wanted. But then they were very different too, complete opposite, and that had to be confusing, or even as Theo defined it amusing, for other people.

Everyone would, at first, consider that they were so alike that they should understand each other. And maybe he did understand Draco. And he was here to make a difference...

Sorting was over. Everyone was sorted, Ron had sat next to Harry, Merlin had received a couple of new housemates. They were, to his annoyance, as talkative as the rest.

Harry was a Gryffindor and surprisingly Merlin felt slightly paranoid over it. Was it due to Harry being like his parents? Or was it all Morgana's doing? He never did know how much influence she had on her hat. Back when Rowena Ravenclaw had helped the hat with sorting it had followed her orders with no questioning.

Next time Merlin chose to become a Slytherin he'd go first again. If she tried to convince the hat to send him to another house, she might succeed. He didn't like that idea one bit. Though she probably would.

Albus stood up and waiting silence started. "Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Merlin and Morgana both laughed. Dumbledore had always been like that, eccentric in the best of ways.

Most of the Slytherins shook their heads. Some said distasteful commentaries too. "Completely Insane." Draco snarled. Merlin rolled his eyes, he knew there was little love between the purebred conservative families like the Malfoys or the Notts, who usually ended up as Slytherins and the old headmaster.

"Is he a bit mad?" Harry asked uncertainly on the other side of the room. Morgana smiled. Harry would grow to like Dumbledore, it was both in his blood and in his house.

Merlin and Morgana replied, the first in an almost monotonous tone and the second in a cheery one, "The greatest Geniuses are always crazy!" They said. The response of the Slytherins was immediate, silence spread through most of the common table like wildfire.

Martin Ambrose flinched, thinking that once again it was his surname that protected him from direct prosecution of all but one. Draco stared with a frown. "Oh, great." He said. "A Dumbledore-fan." Merlin turned at him.

He sighed. "Allow me to ask you something, Draco." Martin said. "Is that your opinion? Or your father's?" Draco didn't even falter.

"My father has the right opinion." The boy said. Merlin rolled his eyes at the answer, carefully ingrained by early parental teachings, it could have been a young Arthur Pendragon talking about magic. "And you better start believing that too."

Martin snorted, suddenly and temporarily wanting to outdo Morgana's curse on the child. To the rest it seemed as if both Martin and Draco were displeased with each other, although probably in a entirely different way. Draco was getting sick of Martin's conflicting ideas, Martin was tired of Draco trying to change his ideology.

"I am sorry, but I'll believe Myredero instead." Merlin stated. Draco scowled. "He is 10 times older, knowledgeable and maybe even richer than your father." Blaise's eyes narrowed, looking at them continuously.

"You mean Ol' Ambrose likes Dumbledore?" The dark skinned boy asked. They all turned to Martin to gauge his reaction, Merlin wasn't feeling too much at home with his prospective roommates.

Martin rolled his eyes slightly. "Yes, yes he does." The children all blinked, some stared at Martin in surprise, some others turned at Draco. "He says 'Martin, Dumbledore like I, we have quirks, being eccentric is the mark of the wise!'." The whole thing was an invention, of course, but they would not know that. And Myredero did like Dumbledore.

Draco wrinkled his nose. "So he wasn't as smart as we always thought." He said. No one corrected him but nobody seemed to agree in the slightest with his assessment on the famous 'Sage'. Merlin smiled softly, thinking how he could use Myredero's influence to help these children. Maybe he could actually do this.

"Yes, he might be going senile." Merlin sighed, set on maintaining the strength of the Myredero legend. "But he is still smarter than all of us put together." There were fallen jaws, awed eyes and, surprisingly enough, a smile by some of the children. They believed him.

Merlin grinned again. He could do this, he definitely could do this.

* * *

Morgana sat there talking avidly with everyone, smiling, laughing, being absolutely charming. As ever.

Her partner, on the other hand, his part of the table sat in almost creepy silence, right after the last applause, very few conversed in mute tones (mostly about Myredero Ambrose and his genius), but the tension was downright palpable. Draco was angry, and Merlin was bored. This was not what he had expected as he started this year.

He had for a moment there believed he could change his predicament. But despite some children beginning to actually like him, no one wanted to displease Draco Malfoy.

He looked around the table, he was sitting next to Theo, the shy boy who had attempted to greet the moody Draco, the boy had brown hair, a slim frame and big brown eyes that almost fitted a doe, small but pouty lips and short hair.

To his other side sat Pansy Parkinson, a black haired girl with long black hair and bored features.

In front of him, Draco who sat mostly alone, Crabbe and Goyle had left to sit at the end of the table when Malfoy had snapped at them for seemingly no reason. To Draco's right sat a redhead second year boy, to his left Daphne Greengrass, a somewhat pretty blonde girl with elegant features. Next to her sat Blaise Zabini, a dark skinned boy with short hair.

"So, Martin." Blaise said hesitantly, breaking the silence. The children looked up, Pansy took her head off her hands as she looked at him. Daphne stopped staring at her plate and lifted his eyes at him. "I've been wondering… Are you an actual Ambrose? Or adopted?" Everyone seemed interested by the question.

Especially Theo, Martin could not help but think that the boy was so interested in him because he was an outsider? The boy certainly needed a push to lose his insecurity and loner tendencies. Maybe Merlin could provide that... Theo certainly felt more openhearted that Draco Malfoy ever did.

"No, I am not adopted." Merlin was shaking his head. They certainly knew Ambrose could have chosen any child and taken them as heir, so they were pushing the story, so they could discover whether he was Myredero's flesh and blood, because, somehow, that was very important for these noble pureblooded folks.

"My mother was an Ambrose, a descendant of Myredero's." He said, he smiled wistfully thinking of Hunith. Mostly for appearances, but also because he liked keeping emotion real when he spoke, as sometimes it was the only thing that was real.

"So your surname is not actually Ambrose?" Pansy asked.

Merlin snorted. "Technically, it should be Ellis. But my mother would have none of it, my father was fine with it too" It was never easy, or rather, it was too easy lying and making up a whole life he never lived, and how easy it was, was unnerving to him. "I think he had so many brothers and nephews, that he thought the surname's future was secure."

Pansy froze, "But he did not want his children to carry his surname?"

"That's strange." Blaise added. "Is it even allowed to use your mother's surname?"

"Well it was an agreement between them in the Wizarding World, though my birth certificate in the Muggle England says 'Martin Ellis Ambrose'." At first Merlin had considered using the latter as his name, but these children certainly valued his surname, so he changed it, both in McGonagall's paper, and officially early on…

Morgana would have figured it on by now. Merlin would approach her with the information later on.

"How did you become Myredero's heir?" Blaise asked. "Did he like chose you or something?" Martin looked at the children, thinking, perhaps he owed the somewhat warm welcome to being the richest kid in the table. His surname ensured he was respected, and even wanted as a Slytherin.

He seriously doubted they would be so welcoming to someone they did not know, at least by reputation… Even if that reputation was not technically his. It was all, or rather most, for prestige. The Ambrose family wasn't of the 28th sacred ones, but they were so rich that the 28th could respect.

Merlin sighed. Half-pleased, half-shocked at the way he made his voice sad. "My mom was his heir." It didn't matter if Merlin was the grand-something of Ol' Ambrose, he felt that if he were to show them a scroll on incomes they'd forgive anything...

"Wait. Was?" Daphne Greengrass questioned, wincing. Theo looked uncomfortable and bit his lip. Even Draco lifted his eyes at him for a moment before looking down again, apparently still annoyed.

Martin stared at him for a moment, was he going to say something? He looked down.

"Yeah, she died." He answered, looking at the floor. She obviously had, a thousand two hundred years ago, shortly before the Camelotian Civil War between Arthur's sons. But it had been to be expected, she wasn't like her son, she was a mortal woman. But neither of that stopped the pang of hurt Merlin felt in his chest every time he thought of Hunith.

Sometimes he felt he insulted her memory by using her for inspiration in his deceptions.

"When?" Daphne asked. Technically speaking, Martin Ambrose's mother had died very recently. And he absolutely dreaded the moment they found out... Morgana enjoyed acting her part, the harder the role, the more complicated the lie, the more she enjoyed playing it out. Merlin, however, did not enjoy the lies and the secrets, he never had, he never did.

The Immortal bit his lip and looked up, "I don't want to talk about that." There was another pang of uncomfortable silence. He really didn't, it was uncomfortable to him telling of that stern, loving woman who raised him, they would not understand, things were so different now.

Merlin turned to look at the left door, just in time to see the professor in the Turban entering the hall, shaking like a leaf. His magical senses fired up, and judging by the way Morgana flinched, so did hers. It wasn't as if they could go and scream 'I feel dark magic around him!'. Who would believe him? No one would.

But he had to ask... "What is the deal with the one in that turban?" He said uncertainly. He didn't expect much. They were children, first years, what could they possibly know? And if they did know, would they tell a boy who wasn't a child of a Death Eater? They didn't particularly trust him, did they?

Daphne stared. "Who-? Quirrel?"

"He is a whimsical one, no doubt." Blaise said, looking at the professor and then at Merlin. "My mother was in Hogwarts with him, according to her he was always a bit, what's the word? - Timid?" Martin did know that much, he was a teacher back then, he barely could remember auburn Quirrel, in fact, he wasn't completely sure he was that auburn boy he remembered him as. He was brilliant but quiet, probably knew all the answers but would not speak out.

Pansy nodded, "Not to mention I heard he was the Muggle Studies teacher before he transferred to Defense Against the Dark Arts." Martin turned at her.

"So he has two O Newts." He observed. It wasn't anything rare, really, Merlin himself could get a lot of Newts, almost all of them except, perhaps, Divination, reading the future out of clouds, the stars and tea leaves were beyond him. Morgana could do it perfectly though.

"And the turban?" Merlin asked, looking at the purple thing with eyes as if it was a being of it's own.

Pansy shrugged. "I don't know. A fashion statement?" She suggested, rolling her eyes.. "Looks ludicrous if you ask me." And Merlin found himself agreeing, it looked awful. But there was something more with that turban, something was not right about it.

"It's fine weave work." Merlin said absentmindedly. He could tell by the way the color didn't particularly change in the fabric, the purple was the same in the back as it was in the front. The weaves in the borders didn't look particularly damaged either… Was it Silk? Morgana could tell.

If it was, it was a rather sumptuous treat for a Professor… They didn't earn that much as to buy three meters of silk. Where could have Quirrel bought it? The Quirrel family he knew did not have the money to buy such a thing…

"Ha!" Draco laughed, saying with a small derogatory tone. "Fine fabric? Are you a Fashion connoisseur, Martin?" Merlin sighed. So the boy stopped the silence just to tease and gloat? He was more like Arthur than Merlin liked to admit.

"No, but Ellaine is." Martin said coldly. "No doubt I learned something from her." The simple mention of the girl seemed to annoy and anger Draco, he spurted a word that sounded like 'Mudblood' and turned away, stewing in his rage.

Merlin rolled his eyes, expecting that awful long silence to take hold again. One few awkward words were said. "Oh, look, Food is finally here." It was Blaise.

Draco served himself food and turned away again, Merlin sighed, he was ever losing hope with his future as Draco's guardian.

* * *

As soon as Quirrel entered the room, Morgana felt her magic emit a powerful warning sing, similar to sudden sting. She saw Merlin turn sharply too and realized that she had not imagined it. Who was this Professor Quirrel? She could not remember him in Hogwarts as a student, the last Quirrel she had any recollection of was a auburn youth nearly 90 years ago, or at least she thought so.

Morgana turned at the closest Weasley twin, just a couple of sits from hers. "Say…" She closed her eyes for a second. "George." She began.

He stared at her. "Heh." He said. "Good job, Ellaine, not everyone can tell us apart so soon." Morgana grinned, she had not used it in years but apparently her Legimency had lost none of it's potency. She did not use it lately, she did not open her mind in such a way often. It revealed her to Legimens all around her, a true legimens such as her was hard to find, reading people's thoughts and protecting her own was second nature to her.

Fred turned at her, "Actually nobody can. How did you do that?" She smiled, looking down, somewhat amused. If only you knew, Fred… If only you knew. She turned to the one person whose abilities were strong enough as to have felt her power.

Albus Dumbledore had not felt her, he was eating goat cheese with basil and tomato. Helga's Recipe. She turned at Quirrel, he was playing with his food with no appetite at all.

"I guessed." She said.

George chuckled, obviously impressed. "Well, you were going to say something?" He asked.

"Yes," She corrected. "I was going to ask something." She blinked, stared down and found herself in front of Helga's old recipes.

She immediately went to fill herself with her friend's tomato soup, chicken stew, potatoes, pumpkin juice… she was starving. Her classmates did the same and began piling food into their plates and right before Morgana took the first bite, "What do you want to ask?" Fred asked, sitting next to his twin. Morgana snorted softly in amusement, they didn't know how to deal with only one talking it, it seemed, they spoke and answered as one.

"What can you tell me about Professor Quirrel?" Morgana whispered, edging on her seat to be heard.

George frowned, and chuckled once. "That's an odd question…" He mused.

"Well, he is an odd man." Fred added with a shrug.

Morgana smiled, with that particular smile that once could move men into doing whatever it was she wanted.

"Tell me."

* * *

Do point out mistakes! Will be highly appreciated.


End file.
